


Afterglow

by Mars00135



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Again, Angst, Bottom Jean, Boys In Love, Bromance, But he's Jean's flirt, But he's Levi's minx, California stereotypes, Cardio Surgeon Ymir, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eren's A Minx, F/F, F/M, Firefighter Marco, He's actually a sweetheart, I blame you Neko!, I really hate tags, IHC Hotshots, Jean isn't a jerk, Levi and Eren are already dating, Long Distance At Times, M/M, Major Original Characters - Freeform, Marco can't turn off his flirt, May Switch, Minor Character Death, Neurosurgeon Levi, Pining, Romance, Scenes of violence and gore because medicine isn't pretty, Slow Build, So are Annie and Reiner, Surgical Intern Eren, Surgical Intern Jean, Tasteful Sex, This is going to be an emotional rollercoaster so buckle up kiddies, Top Levi, Wildlands Firefighters, Ymir and Marco are siblings, You guys know the drill, established relationships - Freeform, much wow, power bottom Eren, smokejumpers - Freeform, such sass, top Marco, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2018-10-16 17:07:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 107,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10575741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mars00135/pseuds/Mars00135
Summary: --With a month before fire season starts, Marco decides to drive down to Malibu to visit his family and check in on his workaholic sister. One morning, he decides to take a walk to the Point Dume bluffs with his dog, Scout. When he gets to the cliffs, he meets a peculiar man with enchanting amber eyes.--Jean has just started his surgical internship at Cedars-Sinai and it has already begun to take its toll on him. So on his first day off in weeks, he decides to take it easy and go on a morning climb up the bluffs at Point Dume with his roommate and fellow intern, Eren. When he gets to the top of the cliff, Jean is greeted by a dog barking in his face followed by the most perfect smile he had ever seen.Basically, a love story between a firefighter and a surgeon juxtaposed against the backdrop of the California wildfire seasons.





	1. The First Spark

The air was heavy as the damp fog--that was both oppressive and cooling all at once--hung in the early morning dim. White and grey gulls called out from the shore a couple miles away from the meandering oceanfront neighborhood Marco strolled through. It was uncharacteristically hot mid-March; even by California standards. Or maybe it wasn't. Maybe it was the thick humid marine layer that was mucking up the otherwise serene Saturday morning vibes. 

He had been away for so long that it was impossible for him to tell anymore. Having spent the last three months backpacking through Asia with friends, the brunette had forgotten all about the drought his native state was in. During that time, not only had the weather changed, but the scenery had as well.

Looking around at houses with their perfectly manicured lawns and their perfectly painted faces with their two perfectly cleaned and waxed cars parked in the front driveway, Marco couldn't help but feel as though he had wandered into an alien landscape. Two or so years ago, these homes were unique and easily identifiable. 

The small two bedroom ranch style home three doors down from Mrs. Danvers' Tudor cottage used to be pastel pink with a teal door and yellow and white roses in the front yard. And the two colonial style houses across the street were once charcoal grey; one with a red door and one with a white door with pink flowers painted on by the daughter of the couple who had owned the house.

Now, all the houses were either white or light grey. The cotton candy flowers on the door had been painted over. That rose colored house was now as pale as paper and the roses were replaced with drought tolerant succulents. After Mrs. Danvers had passed about a year ago, her grandchildren sold the home to a man and woman who did not identify as a "traditional couple" and were currently in the process of tearing it down so that they could rebuild it as a contemporary cement fortress. Or at least that's what it sounded like to Marco when his mother filled him in on the neighborhood gossip over yesterday's breakfast.

The neighborhood that he had once called home and had been so clear and vivid in his mind was a ghost of it's former glory. All beauty had been stripped away like it was yesterday's garbage and replaced with rock gardens, compost lawns, and thorny shrubs all for the sake of a tax write off. What had been a sprawling oasis filled with people with unique personalities that were reflected in their homes was just another row of cookie cutter houses--uniform and unimpressive. There was nothing left but the skeletons of a childhood he had said goodbye to almost two decades ago.

Taking the next turn, he watched with a smile as his border collie, Scout, raced toward the trailhead for the Point Dume bluffs. It had been too long since he had last spent time with the furry troublemaker. He had forgotten how much the guy loved his morning walks and rolling around in the sandy dirt that coated the top of the cliffs by the beach. 

Shivering when a breeze swept up from the shore below and rolled over the brush covered terrain, Marco looked away from Scout for a brief moment to zip up his hoodie. A sudden series of barks followed by the sound of racing footsteps leading away from him caught the mans' attention. Panicking, he turned his gaze back to the dog who had gone running off toward the bluffs.

"Shit," Marco hissed as his eyes shot open with alarm. "Scout! Get back here boy! You can't go over there!"

Charging forward, the brunette called to the black and white hairball that had left his side in a hurry. When the animal disappeared behind a steep downturn Marco's heart skipped. 'Don't tell me he went over the ledge,' he choked at the thought. Pushing himself even quicker, he bound over the larger rocks and dips in the path; sprinting over the wooden tracks embedded in the dirt to act as "steps" for hikers who weren't as surefooted as him. 

With the ledge in sight he slowed down when he heard Scout's happy barks and begging. Jogging up the last bend in the path, Marco was met with the sight of his dog rolling around on his back for a stranger in climbing gear.

"Damn it Scout," Marco breathed, feeling the worry leave his body. Slumping back onto his heels, he apologized to the person who had stopped his dog from going over the edge. "Sorry 'bout that. He got away from me when we got onto the path."

"It's alright," spoke a voice as smooth and calm as the ocean below. "He's not bothering me at all. I was just about to tie off when he came running up the path."

When the man turned his gaze up, Marco found himself at a loss for words. The man before him was handsome; so much so that the brunette thought it was a trick of the light. Rising from the ground, the man stood just a couple inches shy of six feet. Well built but not imposing, he was surprisingly pale for a Californian and an active one at that. His ashen blonde hair that was dark at the roots and lighter at the top from exposure to the sun was trimmed into a neat undercut whose top tresses had been ruffled by the cool breeze. 

But most noticeable was his bright smile and gemstone amber eyes that lingered somewhere between copper and brilliant gold.

"Hey, you alright?" the man asked; his smile slowly turning down into a look of worry.

"Yeah," Marco said, catching himself before he could make a greater fool of himself. "Sorry, I was just catching my breath."

"You don't look like you should be out of breath from running that short distance," the handsome stranger snorted with a small smirk."You live around here?"

"Not anymore. Why?"

"Only locals use the path you came down but I haven't seen you before so I thought you must be new to the area."

"Is that right?" the brunette smiled as he crouched down next to Scout to pet his head. Muttering 'little psychopath' lovingly under his breath to the animal, Marco looked up. "Then that must make you a local to the area. Although I would remember seeing you around. You new?"

"If you can call two years new then I guess."

"Ah," Marco said with a final scratch behind the dogs' ears as he stood. "Well, I'll let you get back to your climb."

As the brunette turned to leave the stranger called out, "Make sure you keep an eye on Scout."

When Marco spun around to look, he watched as the man turned his back to the cliff edge and smiled.

"You wouldn't want to lose track of him."

And like that, the man smiled then hopped off the cliff, repelling himself down and out of sight. Standing alone at the top of the bluffs, Marco felt the world shift. 'Did that really just happen?' he wondered. Scout whined at his side; his bushy tail kicking up the sand and dirt while his eyes were fixed on his human that appeared to be out of order.

"Alright boy," he said coming back from his reverie. "Let's get going."

\----------------------------------------------------------------

"Come on ladies!" Mikasa shouted from the front of the group of five, all of which were men except for her. "Last one up the hill is cooking tonight."

"This isn't a fucking hill Mika," Connie shouted from his spot--dead last and half a yard away. "This is a God damn mountain!"

"Seriously, pull your balls out of your back pocket."

Snorting at her remark, Marco shook his head while shrugging his pack up his shoulders. "Not everyone can be as hardcore as you M. You don't need to treat everything as if we were training for a spot with IHC."

"The man's right," Connie huffed. "Can't we just relax and appreciate the view? Why do you have to make the rest of us suffer?"

"Because it's shark week and I'm out of Midol. If I can climb this shit while my uterus is viciously ripping itself a new one, you can do it too."

The entire crew burst into laughter as they approached the top of the hiking trail. Coming in second, Marco sat down next to a Monterey cypress. It was the same tree he rested against every time the team of five scaled that particular trailhead in the Santa Monica mountains for the past five years. Every time he came in first he would put a small notch in the trunk at sitting level. However, for the last three hikes, he had come in second right behind Mikasa.

Spotting the water bottle the woman tossed his way, the brunette smiled tiredly as he caught it with ease. Mika was a beast alright; just like that crazy cousin of hers. She had joined their station two years ago with Connie. Apparently they were old friends and he had, oddly enough, convinced her to join with the wildland firefighters instead of becoming a doctor alongside her two other friends. 

Since then, she was the one to beat at almost everything except for the amount of dead-weight they lifted and most drops with the smokejumpers. Both were Marco and Marlo's specialty. But the woman was mighty and imposing nonetheless and had the biting humor to survive in a predominantly male workplace.

"Hey Bott," Mikasa spoke between swigs from her water bottle. "Where were you on Saturday? You missed our hike through Malibu Creek."

"I took the day off to catch up with the family."

"Yeah right," Connie smirked devilishly from the rock he was sitting on a foot away. "Come on, tell us where you really were. Let me guess, you were bumping uglies with that guy you met on Friday at Casey's. I'm right aren't I?"

"Yeah, no. Sorry Con but I've got standards."

"Whatever, I saw how he kept looking at you. He totally wanted to tap it."

"Again, not happening. And don't you have some dry heaving to do?" Marco chuckled as the guy leaned over while continuing to breath heavily. "Shesh, maybe we should stick you on the treadmill back at the station and feed you nothing but vegetables. How can you be this winded from just a walk up a hill?"

"Fuck off Freckles. I was in a cast all off-season."

"And whose fault is that?"

Tilting his head up, Connie glared at him with a look of betrayal. They had both gone backpacking during the off-season and somewhere along the way the shorter man had twisted his ankle while walking down a flight of stairs and broke his leg in the tumble. Marco had tried to stop him from hitting the ground hard but was taken down when Connie reached for the handrail but grabbed his shirt collar. But unlike his friend, the brunette wound up with a fractured set of ribs and a kink in the neck that didn't seem to be going away. Con, however, wasn't as fortunate.

Mikasa and Burke had laughed themselves hoarse when the man was released from the hospital in a wheelchair. Marlo was more disappointed than anything since fire season was coming up in four months and his faller was temporarily out of commission. Had his wife not stopped him from blowing his stack in her hospital, both Connie and Marco would have been filleted. Thank God for Hitch and her abilities to diffuse that man. She was the only person alive that could tolerate him to such an extent.

After a half hour, they regrouped and began their trek back down the "hill" with Mikasa at the back and Connie at the front. She was the second squad leader at their station alongside Marco, which made it their job to make sure everyone got to the bottom in one piece. With his eyes trained on the trail ahead, the brunette maneuvered around crumbling cracks in the dirt that had formed after the last rainstorm and large rocks that had been washed down or kicked down from the top by other hikers.

The walk back was going just fine until a sudden pain blossomed between lower four ribs on the left side of Marco's chest. Pausing for a brief moment, he tried willing the piercing sting to vanish but each breath had him gritting his teeth a bit more. Something hadn't healed right or at all after the incident in Hong Kong but he didn't have time to take it easy. Fire season was only a month away and he had to prep his squad for what was starting to look like an active six months; three of which were guaranteed to be absolute hell. He had to be in top form if he was going to carry the crew. But little did he know that the ever perceptive dark-haired woman next to him was watching.

"It's your ribs isn't it," she said low enough that the others couldn't hear.

Glancing to the side then back at the trail, he smirked with a little shake of his head. "Nothing gets past you does it?"

"Marco..."

"Yeah, they're biting back but it's nothing. I'll have Ymir check it out when I visit her tomorrow. 'Kay?"

"Fine but if she tells you to take it easy, you take it easy. I can't carry your sorry ass and Connie's out of the burn zone if your injuries act up."

"I know. I've been trying to take it easy as much as possible but sometimes even the small things cause a little jab."

"That's not good Marco," she said while she did a controlled slide down a patch of loose dirt. Hopping over a rock at the end she turned to see if her partner had managed the same. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I got it. Thanks," he smiled taking grip of her forearm as he steadied himself. "Almost lost my footing there."

"That wouldn't have happened before the fracture."

"Alright Mika, I get it. I'll rest and have Ymir patch me up. Happy?"

"Not completely but it'll do." Looking ahead, she frowned. "Are you ladies seriously going to drag your feet when there's a dinner to cook?" she shouted like the drill sergeant she was. "That food ain't going to make itself. Come on, pick up your feet and stop pissing in the wind."

She really was like her cousin. It was almost comical how much they acted like each other. But, then again, after living with the man for half her life, it only made sense that Mikasa would pick up some of his traits. It would've been nice if was took after him when it came to cleanliness because her living space at the station was always the messiest.

Pulling out his phone when they had made it into the parking lot at the foot of the trail, Marco sent out a message to his sister to let her know he'd be swinging by the hospital tomorrow for a check up. Bones and breaks weren't really her specialty but the thorax and anything it encompassed was so she would be able to handle his issue just fine. The only problem was the brutal scolding she would subject him to. It was bad enough that he had chosen to pursue the same career that landed their father and mother in deep shit fifteen years ago. With his luck, she would see this as yet another reason why he was just a Darwin award waiting to happen. But oh well. Ymir was only looking out for him.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

The alarm sounded with punishing loudness that shook Jean from his sleep. Groaning awake, the young man felt his eyes fight him every step of the way as he stretched and rolled out of the warm womb of blankets and flannel sheets. It was too early for any sane human being to be up but no one in the medical field could be considered sound minded; they were know-it-all's with God complex's for the most part. 

Across the hall, Eren's alarm went off blasting "Uptown Funk" into the air. Sluggishly making his way into the bathroom, Jean began to brush his teeth with eyes still half closed. Staring at his roommate's door, he waited for the guy to wake up. He sighed heavily knowing that he had to intervene when there was no sign of the guy rousing from his slumber.

Steeling himself, Jean threw open the door and flicked on the lights. Eren immediately reacted as he always did when someone tried to wake him up, although his way of greeting people was a bit more violent. Grabbing the shoe closest to the bed, the brunette chucked it in the direction of the intruder while angrily burying his face in the duvet. His roommate dodged it with ease and ducked as a flipflop sailed past his left temple. Firmly taking hold of the blankets, Jean yanked them back exposing his friend to the cool morning air.

"Wake up asshole," Jean ordered; his toothbrush hanging out the side of his mouth. "We have to be at the hospital in an hour and traffic is going to be a bitch this morning because they closed down a huge section of the PCH." As he turned to leave, he began scrubbing his pearly whites while shouting a final threat. "If you don't get up, I'll tell the entire department you're fucking an attending."

"Fine," Eren groused, rolling out of bed like a spoiled child. Joining his friend in the bathroom, he pinned back his messy chestnut brown hair and splashed water on his face. "Why do you always have to be an asshole when you wake me up?"

"Because I'm hypotensive, I haven't had coffee, and it's three-thirty in the morning."

Another long dismal whimper crept out of Eren. "Remind me why we decided to study medicine?"

"Fuck if I know. I forgot after the first week of our internship," Jean said before spitting the remainder of his toothpaste into the sink followed by the rinse water. "Anyway, hurry up and wash up. We got to go soon if you want to grab coffee on the way. And make sure you wear something to cover up the marks on your chest."

"God damn it," Eren muttered when he looked down and noticed the little pink marks near his collarbone and neck. "I'm going to kill that asshole."

"You can't kill him, we don't have another neurologist to replace him."

"Whatever. Let's just get going."

Washing up and changing out of their pajama's, the pair locked the small house as they left for work. Jean was silent for most of the drive since Eren needed a good half hour to forty minutes before the coffee kicked in. Battling the traffic that surrounded the immediate area surrounding the massive hospital, the ashen blonde did his best to keep a level head. 

After living on the east coast where drivers actually obeyed the laws of the road, adjusting to Californian drivers was as foreign as navigating an alien planet. Nobody stayed in their lane; they instead played a game he called "Create a Lane." Motorcyclists swerved in and out of his way, cutting across dividers just to get ahead of the guy in front. It was a nightmare and two or three times he had to slam on the horn while stomping on the brakes to avoid being hit.

Finally arriving at the employee parking lot, Jean pressed his badge against the magnetic scanner to enter the structure. As fate would have it, they were running late and the only available spots were on the third floor. Rushing to make it before they were both slammed by their resident, Jean and Eren flew out of the car juggling their coffee, badges, and backpacks. With a bagel gripped between his teeth, Jean raced down the stairs and across the service road that separated them from the staff entrance. Scanning his badge again, he punched in then waited for Eren to do the same. 

Breezing past the nurse's station they sneered as Marlene, the charge nurse, and Michelle, a senior scrub nurse, chuckled and told them they were late for pre-rounds. Making quick work of changing into their dark navy scrubs, Jean and Eren walked as quickly as they could to the nurse's station, grabbed their patient charts, and headed to room 10 to join the other interns they were grouped with. When the two men entered, Doctor Bott looked up.

Watching Jean and Eren with a pointed gaze, Ymir Bott clicked her tongue before continuing with the rundown of the patients' diagnosis. At her side was the attending neurologist and the hospital's golden goose, Levi Ackerman. Despite his model-esque appearance, the man was a genius and had performed over a thousand surgeries; both minor and major. 

He also happened to be the hardest doctor to impress and treated almost everyone with the same degree of cold indifference. Levi had taken a strong liking to Eren four years ago and had recently started dating him half a year ago. But when they were at work, he was the same hard-nosed asshole; well, at least that was Jean's impression of him.

While the two friends did their best to listen to Micaiah, their fellow intern, rattle off the symptoms Mr. Arthur was experiencing, both Ymir and Levi's pagers went off. Grabbing his first, the older man's eye went wide. Clipping it back around the waist of his pants, he looked up and scanned over the faces of the people in front of him.

"Jaeger, Kirstein," he snapped with purpose. "Come with me. Ymir, call Zoe and tell her to meet me on the helipad with her strongest interns. We have a three-hundred plus fish on dry land coming in."

"Wait, what's a three-hundred plus fish on dry land?" Eren asked Jean as the attending blew past them.

"You'll find out when we get up there," Levi said breaking into a sprint. "Everyone move it! Out of my way!"

Without so much as breaking a sweat, Levi raced through the halls with the two interns following close behind. Men and women spiraled out of the way and pressed up against the walls to dodge them. Along the way, the trio was joined by Dr. Hanji Zoe and her interns, Sasha and Lenore. Despite appearances, both women possessed an absurd amount of strength and packed a hell of a punch as tested by Eren. They also were keen to keeping a level-head during a crisis.

Together, the six doctors flew up the stairs since both attendings claimed the elevator would take too long. When they got to the top of the stairwell, Levi pushed the door open with brutal force only to be stunned by the onset whirlwind being generated by the massive propeller blades of the incoming helicopter. It was a harsh oppressive wind that caused the interns to pivot away; their hands cupped around their ears and eyes screwed shut. However, Hanji and Levi stood tall with one hand up to block the glare from the climbing morning sun.

As soon as the aircraft landed and the blades had slowed, the attendings shouted to their interns; telling them to "look alive." Hopping out of the side door first was the EMT with both hands secured on the chrome rail of the portable gurney. Following him was the paramedic at the patient's side.

"Patient's name is Richard Gonzales, age forty-two," the paramedic said as she filled Levi and Hanji in. "He was camping with family when he collapsed and began to seize."

"Any history of stroke or brain tumors?" Levi asked as he helped move the man toward the lift as a grand mal seizure overtook the patient. "Jaeger! Kirstein! I need you to help me roll him so the medic can dose him."

Moving fast, the two men gripped the patients' right arm and leg as best as they could then began to roll him. It was a monumental task since the weighed over three-hundred pounds and had the strength of an unrestrained bull. As the seizure intensified, the mans' arm ripped away from them and his elbow slammed into Eren's head. The moment the hard bone connected with the young doctors' temple, he went down; losing consciousness before anyone knew what had happened.

"Eren!" Jean shouted.

"Fucking Christ," Levi growled while he held onto the mans' convulsing body until the daizepam began to take affect. Once it had, he let go and turned to quickly examine the downed intern. "Jaeger," he said with a frighteningly calm tone while tapping him on the cheek. "Can you hear me? Jaeger?"

When he didn't respond, Levi urged the others to continue without him while he waited for the response team he was currently paging to arrive on the roof. Watching the lift doors shut, the man went back to trying to rouse the man lying unconscious on the ground. It had all happened so fast that he didn't get a good look at where the young man had been hit. All he knew was that he was bleeding from mouth and right ear.

"Eren," he said in a lower--more loving--tone that was riddled with growing anxiety. "Eren? Come on, baby, wake up. Just make a sound to let me know you can still hear me."

Coming too, the brunette groaned while his head rolled in the other mans hands. "Oww," he rasped.

"Thank fucking God," Levi breathed, smiling down at him with his brows still knitted together with the lingering panic. "You had me going for a second."

"What..what happened?" Eren asked as Levi kissed him tenderly on the top of his head.

"You got decked and collapsed. I'm waiting for a response team to come assist with moving you."

"I can walk just fine."

"Don't you dare," the older doctor warned, pressing a hand down firmly on Eren's shoulder. "You were out for a solid two minutes and you're bleeding from your mouth and ear. Like hell you're getting up and moving around."

"Levi--"

"Don't argue with me," he said with one last kiss--though the threat was still there--before the response team was on the rooftop with a wheelchair. "Get on and let them take you to ER. I'll be down there in a bit to stitch you up and check you out to make sure they didn't miss anything."

\--------------------------------------------------------------

It was only 2:30 in the afternoon and Jean was already exhausted. With Eren out of commission, he was gifted with caring for all of his roommate's patients. It was probably Bott's way of punishing him for not handling the emergency patient that clocked his friend in the head well enough. She was likely doing it on Levi's behalf since the two were close friends outside of work. Although, a part of Jean doubted that the shorter doctor would have allowed her to take her aggression out on him in such a manner.

Muttering to himself as he walked outside to relax in the courtyard, Jean caught a lone figure sprawled out on a stone bench out of the corner of his eye. A couple interns and a few residents would unwind in the garden area but rarely did anyone ever pass-out on a bench. With his doctor's intuition peaking, the young man walked over to the person to see if they were okay. Sleep deprivation was a normal occurrence for surgical interns and the ER staff so maybe that was the case here; but what if it wasn't?

The closer he got the more Jean began to worry. First, the person was not wearing medical scrubs or a staff ID badge so they couldn't be with the hospital. Secondly, they were taking shallow breaths which was usually never a good thing. 'Shit, and my break just started too,' Jean thought to himself as he made a beeline to what he had assumed was an unconscious relative of some patient in the OR ward since it was the closest waiting room to their location. 

However, Jean felt his stomach knot when he got close enough to identify the person as a young man with dark brown hair, tan freckled skin, and a familiar Gemini tattoo in the middle of the guys' forearm.

With both hands shoved into the pockets of his white lab coat, he leaned over the sleeping man still stuck in a state of disbelief. Jean never thought he would have the chance to meet the hottie from the bluff's again yet there he was; asleep and stretched out in the warm sun like a lazy cat in someone's garden. Silently, he appraised the man before him with a less than appropriate look in his eyes.

The brunette was devastatingly handsome; even when he was asleep. Maybe more so. His warm honeyed skin glowed under the afternoon sun--highlighting the freckles over his arms, clavicle, that perfectly chiseled jawline, and the round tops of his cheekbones. His thick lashes fluttered against his skin as the deep brown eyes Jean remembered falling into shifted beneath his eyelids. A small groan escaped his pillowly lips that the doctor watched with the slightest curiosity as to what it would feel like to kiss them. 

This kind of thinking was ridiculous. Jean was shamelessly objectifying someone who could very well be related to one of his patients or, even worse, be dating someone he worked with. Yet he couldn't stop himself. He had played it cool the first time they met but on the inside he had been battling the urge to make a pass on the guy. 

It wasn't his fault that he worked in the medical field and knew how to appreciate a fine specimen when it crossed his path. Jean was a professional and knew how to restrain himself; hell, he did it almost every minute of everyday when patients acted out or Ymir decided to chew him out. But right now, in the relative privacy of the courtyard, Jean allowed himself to indulge in staring at the man that had lingered in his dreams for the last couple of nights.

However, the reverie was cut short when the handsome stranger shifted in place, stretched his arms, and then opened those beautiful brown eyes that were now gazing right back at him. They hung in the awkward silence, feeling the crushing weight of realization slowly sink into them. Jean forced the blush away from his cheeks but still felt the embarrassment squeeze tightly at his throat.

Meanwhile, the brunette looked at him with an expression of total bewilderment. His brows furrowed together while his perfect nose sprunched up in an adorable manner as his brain connected the dots.

"You're the rock climber from Point Dume," the handsome stranger said, still confused.

"And you're the dog guy."

Laughing, as if to purposefully destroy Jean with his beautiful smile, the man raised his right hand. "Marco."

"Jean Kirstein," the intern introduced himself. Forcing his legs to work, he straightened up and stepped back so that the guy could sit up. "What are you doing here? You have family here or something?"

"Yeah, something like that. What about you? What are you doing here?"

"I work here," Jean smirked with a tone of amusement. "I'm a surgical intern."

"That's cool. What year are you in?"

The question came off as strange. Not many people in general population knew that there were different tiers to the intern program. Most assumed that doctors graduated and boom, they were surgeons. Very few knew about the intern and resident years. Those who did were usually related or married to a surgeon.

"Second year."

"So you have one more left," Marco spoke easily as he relaxed in place.

"How do you even know that? You don't look like you work at the hospital or in medicine."

"Ouch, that's harsh," the brunette chuckled as he rotated to place his feet on the ground. Sitting up, Marco rolled his shoulders back then cracked his neck. "But you're right, I'm not in medicine although I know quite a few people in the field. One of my good friends is an attending here; scares the shit out of the new comers from what I hear."

"Ackerman?"

"Yeah. Fun guy once you get to know him."

"How do you--" Jean started but was suddenly cut off by the voice of someone he feared more than Levi.

"Kirstein!" Ymir shouted from across the courtyard. "I've been paging you for the past half hour. You make me do that again and it'll be my boot up your ass."

As Jean struggled not to blush while he grumbled under his breath, his pissed off resident strode up behind him to see who had kept her airheaded intern from fulfilling his duties. It didn't take long since she could pick out Marco's laugh anywhere. Her gaze narrowed on her younger brother with a ferocity she usually saved for the hellions that she mentored.

"So this is where you were hiding?" the woman glowered with both arms crossed against her chest. "My schedule is tight you know."

"I know, I know," Marco stood up then gave her a kiss on the cheek without thinking. "Sorry for keeping you waiting. I was just making small talk with Jean, right?" he said, turning to face the man who had now gone slightly paler in the face.

"Yeah," Jean spoke with an air of caution. Glancing between Ymir's engagement ring and then their faces, he felt his stomach drop. "I, uh, I should go then. Ackerman will be wanting the labs for Mr. Gonzales."

"You show those charts to me first, you hear? I don't want a repeat of last week. Kirstein, are you listening to me?" she shouted as he began to walk away. "Don't you ignore me! Kirstein!"

"Lay off the guy sis," Marco said low enough that only she could hear him. "He looks like he's been having a bad day."

"We all have bad days and it's my job to chew his ass out when he starts slacking so that it doesn't become a habit once he's out of the program," she huffed. "That kid has a lot of talent but he's got to manage his time better than he already does. Both he and Jaeger have what it takes but those idiots just don't listen."

"You have Eren on your team?" the brother laughed as they turned to head back inside. "That's hilarious. I wonder how you manage."

"The same way I do with you and mom."

"We're not that bad."

"Oh yes you fucking are. Do not make me bring up the 2013 camping trip again because I will. I've got you for the next twenty minutes which is more than enough time for me to refresh your memory."

Lifting his hands in defense, Marco resigned to submitting since it seemed like she was in a foul mood. "Shit, okay. I get it. I'm a space cadet at times but put down the boxing gloves. Shesh, I feel bad for Krista if this is what she has to deal with."

"Krista's been gone for the past two weeks. Her squad is on loan to the Pinebrush Station in Washington until further notice."

"Damn, that's right. Reiner and Annie told me they were getting called out for the Bottle Neck Fire a while back but I guess I forgot."

"Whatever," Ymir quipped as her scowl deepened. Waiting in front of the elevator as the lift slowly descended, she sighed. "I'm really worried, Marco. That thing already swallowed up over a hundred acres and it doesn't look like it'll stop anytime soon. From what I last heard, the land is just as dry as it is here and the winds aren't moving in their favor. What if something happens?"

"Stop it Ymir," he commanded right as the lift arrived. As the doctors, nurses, techs, and desk workers exited, the two brunettes stood in silence then boarded. "Krista has been fighting fires worse than the Bottle Neck longer than I have. She's one of the best in California which is why she's an IHC," Marco said once the doors had closed. "If she wasn't capable of holding her own against a mid-level wildfire like that, she wouldn't have made it onto the team. 'Kay?"

Sniffling, his sister nodded. "Yeah, you're right. I just miss her, you know."

"I know. But she'll be home soon. You guys have a wedding to plan after all. And while I may be your man of honor, I don't think I am up for going cake and flower shopping with you. I love you Ymir but I draw the line at roses and pastries."

"Shut up," she chuckled. "You're a slut for cake and we both know it."

"Yeah, which is why I can't help you there. I got to keep my figure for the summer."

"Oh my God, you are such a dork," Ymir rolled her eyes with a smile.

Stepping off the lift, the pair head to her private office on the fourth floor. Nodding a hello to Doctor Smith and Zoe who were going over ways to extract a tumor from around the heart, she opened the heavy oak door to her workspace then closed it behind her brother. The room was split in two with a desk and three chairs in the main area then a joined examination room to the right. Breezing past the office, the siblings went straight to the evaluation space. Marco hopped up onto the padded bench that had been covered in a sterile sheet of medical examination paper.

Removing his t-shirt and long leather strap necklace, he watched as his sister put on her stethoscope. It was obvious that she had gone in to full on doctor mode. That cold calm expression of hers was a dead giveaway. Pressing the icy metal and plastic drum against the left side of his ribs, Ymir told him to take a deep breath then exhale. The process repeated three more times with her moving the scope every time to get a different reading.

After listening to his heart and lungs work for a good two minutes, Ymir withdrew the hearing apparatus from her ears; hooking it around her neck. Silently, she took the nylon blood pressure cuff from the holder on the wall and wrapped it around Marco's bicep--right above his elbow. Putting the earpieces of the scope back in, Ymir hit the button on the machine that pumped air into the cuff until it was at maximum tightness. With the drum of the stethoscope pressed against the main artery in his arm, she hit the release and listened carefully to the pulse as the pressure subsided.

"Everything seems to be in working order," Ymir said at last after the long silence. "You still have some slight prickling in the left lung when you take deep breaths but it should be fine by the end of the month. I'll send Marlo an email letting him know you're got the green light for active duty and smokejumping."

"And the IHC?"

"I think you should steer clear of that this season. If you hit those two ribs hard enough then they could snap all over again."

"Right. I'll let Keith know," Marco grunted as he slid off the bench.

"Why? Was he asking you to sign on as a temp again?"

"Yeah. Apparently the guys over in La Canada are short three firefighters for the season so they were calling around to see who was available to sign on out of the people who are trained to be hotshots."

"Well you can tell him I said no. I think that should suffice."

Snorting a laugh, the brother nodded as he put his shirt back on. "I doubt he'll blink twice at that. Anyway, me and some of the crew are going to grab a few beers tomorrow night at Casey's. You up to join? Or are you on call?"

"No, I'm free. I'll see if Levi and Hanji want to come with."

"What about Erwin?"

"Probably not," Ymir shook her head. "Linn is in her last trimester so I doubt he'll want to be far from home just in case she goes into labor. I'm surprised she hasn't popped already with how big the twins looked on the last sonogram."

"'Kay, well, I'll see you tomorrow." Kissing his sister on the cheek, he smiled as he opened the office door and left. "Love you."

"Love you too. Drive safe, 'kay."

"I know. Later Ymir."

As the door closed, a sigh escaped from her as she slumped against the examination bench. Raking a hand through her long brown bangs, the young doctor couldn't help but feel uneasy. It was bad enough that she was engaged to a hotshot firefighter. Something like the Marines of fire department, the IHC hotshots were the best in the business and were sent in to the hottest, most dangerous parts of the blaze. From inside the heart of the inferno, they extinguished fires while risking life and limb. Sleep deprivation, fatigue, and dehydration were normal occurrences as were work related injuries. So the idea of her knucklehead brother, who was more heart than reason, running into the jaws of an untamed blaze gave Ymir chills. She had nightmares of him being overtaken by the flames more often than she cared to admit to him.

But Marco loved his job and, despite his sisters' opinion, it suited him. It was a high-octane job that was team based. For a natural born leader like him, it was a perfect fit. He had always been great with crisis management and problem solving but excelled with on the spot thinking. Just like Ymir, he had a strong sense of altruism; caring more for others than himself. But instead of going into med school, he took up firefighting fresh out of junior college. After graduating from university, he made it his career. 

So while Marco rushed toward danger to save lives, Ymir waited for them to come by helicopter and ambulance so that she could fix what was broken. They two sides of the same coin; both working toward the same goal. Yet still, she prepared herself for the day that the patient coming into the emergency room was her brother or wife. What would she do then? Ymir did not know how she would react but, until then, she would keep praying and hoping for the best. It's all anyone could do who had family in the fire department.

\-------------------------------------------------

Jean hadn't slept much in the last forty-eight hours so the notion of going to Casey's with Eren, Armin, and Sasha wasn't high on his list of things to do. But after that scuffle on the helipad yesterday morning, he had no choice but to go since his green-eyed friend wouldn't listen to reason and rest until the small bump on his head went down. 'Fucking idiot, risking his health like some lunatic,' Jean growled silently as he sifted through his closet for something clean to wear.

It had been weeks--months, maybe--since he had last gone out to do any socializing. The morning hikes and climbs by Point Dume didn't count since he only did that with Eren. Even worse was the fact that Ymir would be present and may or may not be accompanied by Marco, who was probably her fiancee if the ring on her finger were any indicator. Just the memory of the mans' smile and those adorable dimples that formed with every happy expression was enough to make Jean's heart ache. Why was it that all the men he liked were straight?! It wasn't fair. He worked hard every day and did his best not to let his team down and, damn it, he deserved someone like Marco to come home to. 

So why couldn't he manage to find a guy like that? 'Maybe I've been cursed by gypsies,' he mused indifferently. Maybe it was just his lot in life to live alone and work himself into an early grave. The idea didn't seem too bad since he enjoyed what he did. And at least he'd leave behind a young body that could be put to use through organ donation once his soul had vacated; to every storm, a silver lining was how he saw it.

Settling on a pair of slim dark wash jeans with a worn leather belt, his favorite navy low top Converse, and a good old reliable cream henley, Jean slipped his arms through the green cargo jacket he'd had since his freshman year of college. Skipping contacts sense they had been in for the past three days, the young man opted for the black box frame glasses on the nightstand. Without so much as glancing at the image in the mirror, Jean grabbed his phone and car keys since he was the designated driver tonight and turned the lights off as he left.

With Eren riding shotgun, Jean swung by the ritzy apartment where Armin and Sasha lived. Connie, who had been with the woman for the past three years--and had just moved in, was already at the bar. Apparently some of the other firefighters from his station were with him and had already reserved two billiards tables. All three of the men in the car were excited by the news since it meant they'd get to see Mikasa for the first time since they graduated from med school. Finally, for the first time in six months, the crew would be together. Yet as Jean entered Casey's and looked across the bar to where Connie was calling from, he felt his heart skip.

"Shit," he choked quietly when his eyes met with Marco's. Why was he there?!

\-------------------------------------------------

The night had just started but half of Marco's crew were well on their way to going home hammered. Laughing as Marlo howled triumphantly as he sank another striped ball, he watched as Hitch slapped his backside with a little wink. After a quick peck on the lips, the crew chief was already lining up his next shot. Playfully groaning, Marco feigned anguish as if the shots had somehow hurt his pride. When Hitch missed her shot--probably because her husband had been whispering in her ear--it was the brunette's turn.

"Come on sweet cheeks," Kat bellowed from behind Marco as she slapped his butt with a lingering grope. "Let's get this one trick pony show on the road."

"Ladies first," Marco smirked knowing that the comment would annoy her.

When the short platinum blonde flipped him off with a puckered up expression, the brunette could only laugh. Kat had been Marco's best friend since grade school. Fierce, witty, and far more ballsy than most of the men he knew, the woman was some wild force of nature that lived in accordance to her own rules. Despite her miniature height--scraping the bar at five feet and two inches--she could bench press twice her weight and wrestle men bigger than Marco to the ground. However, Kat was all heart and came armed with an infectious laugh that had caught him the first day they met in Mrs. O'Day's music class. Now, two decades later, they were still the same strange kids but bigger and shared rent and locker space at the station.

Making her shot without so much as batting a lash, Kat happily bit down on her bottom lip; playing with the captive ring in the left corner that she only wore when she wasn't working. Swaying to the groovy melody of "Bennie and the Jets" by Elton John, she bumped up next to her pool partner the way a horny guy would grind behind a girl at the club. While everyone hooted and hollered, Marco just smiled and shook his head. She was the only person alive that could get away with pelvic thrusting him from behind like that. That's just the kind of person she was and that was just the type of relationship they had; weird but completely normal, at least for them.

As the main door opened, Marco bent over to make his shot. Hitting the solid red 25 ball in, he rose with a self-satisfied grin on his face. But it was when he turned to see who Connie was calling to that his expression changed to one of shock. What was Jean doing there? Looking between him and Eren then to Connie and Mikasa who were making their way over to the new arrivals, the brunette linked everything up. 'So these were the guys Mika and Con were talking about,' he thought to himself, never once looking away from the intern he had met the other day. 

It was funny how stunned the guy looked. He probably didn't know that he and Marco shared friends but, then again, why would he? Ymir had interrupted them the other day so he hadn't gotten around to telling the intern what he did for a living. Maybe tonight they'd have more time to talk. Or maybe not since half a minute after arriving, Jean made a beeline for the bar.

"Eh babe," Kat called from across the pool table, dragging him out of his daydream. "It's your shot."

"Oh, sorry. I wasn't paying attention," he smiled rather awkwardly while rubbing the back of his neck. "Shit Kat, what did you do?"

"I missed asshole. What does it look like?"

"Yeah, but did you have to shotgun the whole damn table?"

"Fuck you Marco," the blonde snapped defensively.

"Oh how you wish," he fired back, laughing when she blew him a kiss. "Right. Let's see if I can salvage this shit storm."

Across the bar, Jean made small talk with Connie and Mikasa; trying desperately to pay attention to what they were saying since they hadn't seen each other in so long. But it was hard to think of anything being said when Marco--the beautiful bronze Grecian god that had no business being that good looking--was laughing his ass off just thirty feet away. It was impossible to look away. He was so handsome and the two beers the intern had quickly knocked back were overriding his better judgement.

Slightly tipsy and emboldened, the young man snuck brief appraising glances at the brunette. Chiseled like a sculpture and tanned like a recreational surfer during the summer, the man was likely a sportsman; maybe a swimmer since he had very little body fat and his shoulders looked broad enough. He also had freckles all over his arms, neck, and the bit of his chest that was exposed by the soft white v-neck shirt he wore. They weren't as profound as they could be since the caramel coloring of his skin masked them for the most part. But under the light, the little speckles showed.

Jean felt his pulse pitch when those brown eyes flickered to him, locked on, and grew brighter when he smiled and gently jerked his head in a silent request for him to join the game. But the intern did not dare move. Not after catching the little glare Ymir shot at him with an arched brow. Of course she'd be pissed. Her fiancee was smiling like an idiot at her intern and right in front of her no less. However, Jean's blood ran cold when he saw something devilish surface within the woman's swirling brown gaze.

"Kirstein," Ymir called to him with a sly grin. "Levi and I are playing the winner next game. Since Marco's partner is stepping out for a smoke, you should sub in."

Was this a test? It had to be.

"I'm alright," Jean said as he attempted to smile apologetically with a nod of his head. "I wouldn't want to mess up the rhythm they got going on."

"What fucking rhythm?" Kat cackled as she grabbed her Camel blue's from her backpack. Removing two from the pack, she slipped the little box back underneath her shiny black and red motorcycle helmet. "Fuck, take my spot for all I care. I'm playing shit tonight anyways so better you than me," she mumbled; her North Carolinian twang coming out in full force. "I'm going out for a smoke. Anyone feel free to join."

"I'll take some of that action," Eren grunted as he hopped down from the bar stool and walked out the back door followed closely by Mikasa and Connie.

Without any further excuse, Jean sighed. Grabbing his fresh-opened bottle of Guinness, the young man joined Marco at the pool table while Ymir re-racked the balls and Levi finished his drink. Bobbing his head to the wry vocals of Freddie Mercury singing "Another One Bites The Dust," the dark-haired man looked less like everyone's boss and more like the cool guy at the college campus bar. He was much younger in the face and, despite that chilling glare that could melt the flesh off any interns' bones, he was good-looking and easy to get along with if you could get past his prickly exterior defenses. 

Levi was the quiet type that didn't waste his time with meaningless chatter so most of the conversations between him and his friends consisted of knowing glances, nods, grunts, and the occasional one-liner. It seemed to be enough for Eren since they had already been together for well over a few months now. And if there was one rule Jeans' friend didn't break, it was that he didn't date pretentious assholes.

"New blood shoots first," Marco chimed in as he leaned back against the tall table behind him. When Jean didn't catch on, the man chuckled softly.

"He meant you Kirstein," Levi smirked as he chalked up his shooter pole.

"Oh, okay," the young man said finally understanding why everyone was waiting.

"Ten says he blows the shot," Ymir 'whispered' although she knew full well that her intern could hear every word.

Levi chuckled after swallowing down a swig from his bottle of Sierra Nevada Stout. "Twenty says he pockets the eight ball."

Ignoring them, Jean eyed the triangle at the center of the table; trying to imagine where each would land if he hit it from the side, front, or back. Deciding to pinch it in the neck, the young man placed the white ball at an angle to the right of the play zone. Drawing the pole back with one long breath, he exhaled sharply as the stick shot forward and sent the heavy stone sphere hurtling toward the top middle of the pack. Like magic, the red 25 and the solid orange 21 dipped into the top left and center pockets.

"Solids," grinned proudly, daring to quirk a brow at his two gobsmacked bosses. "Your shot Marco."

Sharing in the triumph of that moment, the brunette reveled in the look on his sisters' face. "So would you prefer it if we spoon fed you your words?" he teased the others across the way. "Thanks for teaming me with the ace, Ymir."

After Jean had broken the the set and pocketed two solids, the game was pretty much theirs from that point on. Levi and Ymir only got five shots in during which they managed to sink a handful of striped balls. They were good and worked even better as a team. But they were at a steep disadvantage right from the start. The game ended after only fifteen minutes; but they put up a good fight.

As Levi reset the table for the second game, Ymir pulled out her phone to answer the slew of texts she had gotten from Krista. The first playfully opened with "Reporting from the front lines in Washington..." With both sides of the opposition distracted, Marco ordered another round of beers for him and Jean. He was determined to talk to the guy and see what it would take to get him to laugh and let loose. Apparently, beer--strong stout's in particular--were part of the equation.

"So why are you here tonight?" Jean asked without the slightest bit of shame as he leaned against the bar while watching everyone interact. "Did your girl drag you here or was it a coincidence?"

"Girl?" Marco smiled at the thought. "I don't follow."

Jerking his chin toward Ymir, the intern tried to keep his composure. "Isn't that your ring on her finger? You guys seem really close so I assumed--"

"You thought I was engaged to Ymir?"

"Well I know Levi sure as hell isn't."

"Yeah, that would probably be problematic since Jaeger can be a jealous brat sometimes," Marco teased with a wicked little smirk.

Punching him in the arm with a short laugh, Jean bit his bottom lip. "Then are you?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"I'm just curious, is all."

"Oh you're more than curious," Kat chimed in, suddenly appearing a mere three inches away from the right side of Jean's face. Laughing like mad when he jumped back, she eyed him up and down with a long appreciative sigh. "Damn, you are one tight piece of--"

"Seriously Kat?" Marco scoffed, faking insult. "And right in front of me no less."

"Don't worry babe, no one can beat your sweet ass."

"And that's my queue to leave," the intern said as he pushed away from the bar. "Let's just wrap this up, 'kay. After we win, you can mess around with whoever."

Shooting his friend a simmering glare, the brunette followed but, before they reached the pool tables, grabbed Jean's wrist and leaned in to whisper, "If we win, I'll tell you who's ring that is on Ymir's finger. Deal?"

Trying desperately to calm the intense shivers rushing up his spine, Jean managed to maintain his indifferent expression. "Sure, whatever you want Marco."

Determined to win so that he could have a moment alone with the guy, Marco took his partners' lack of enthusiasm as a challenge. Downing a third of his beer, he locked eyes with Ymir as he took his shooters pole. Smirking, the brunette lifted his right hand; bending all but two fingers as if to call that he was going to land stripes. Scoffing, she watched him line up the shot and, as he followed through with a sharp thrust, sank the green striped 2 ball and got the purple 4 to kiss the top right pocket.

Wagging a brow at her, he knew he was giving her hints as to what his ulterior motive was. He also knew that once his sister figured it out, she was going to do everything in her power to win that game. Ymir loved teasing Marco; it was one of the few character traits she hadn't grown out of. But he had gotten wiser with time and learned how to play dirty.

Since bringing Krista's relationship with his sister into the playful banter that bounced back and forth between the two teams would ruin the surprise once he and Jean won, Marco decided to take shots at Levi. It was normal for the two men to exchange verbal taunts so this was no different. As the dark-haired man leaned over to make his shot, the brunette grinned and pressed his lips together to stifle a laugh.

"What?" Ymir groaned, wondering what was so funny.

"Nothing. I was thinking how natural that stance looked for Levi," Marco snickered as the man took the shot and missed. "Makes one wonder."

As Kat laughed up a storm from the bar after nearly spraying her beer across the floor, Ymir and Jean both stared at him as if he had just asked to have his ass handed to him. Straightening out, Levi rolled his shoulders back and clicked his tongue in the same unimpressed manner that he usually approached every conversation with. Marco could tell from the look in his silver eyes that his comment had struck a cord but something else had taken control.

Shrugging, Levi smirked as he pushed his hands into the pockets of his black slim jeans. "Don't knock it until you've tried it Bott. You'd be surprised how strong an orgasm can be when you hit the prostate."

At this, Kat and Sasha, who had joined in laughing, both burst into full-blown cackles. Slamming her fist against the table while the female brunette next to her clutched her aching sides, Marco's friend wheezed saying that Ackerman had pinned him good. Shaking his head, he chuckled. Levi really did know how to dish them out and he was fast about it too. Somehow, he always knew exactly what to say. That wit was more of a gift than those million dollar hands of his.

"Fuck you guys are brutal on each other," Jean said almost to himself as he leaned across the table to make his shot; landing two balls in like it were nothing. "And I thought my friends tore into it. Is it just between you three or are all surgeons from your generation sarcastic assholes?"

"You really think Marco has the chops to stand in my OR?" Levi snorted with an amused look about his face. "I'd have him thrown out in five minutes flat for patient endangerment."

"As if I'd want to watch a living person get cut up and stitched back together," the brunette fired back; his expression bordering on disgust. "You can keep your scalpels and freakishly pristine operating room."

"Jesus, can you guys shut up for a second. I can't think with all the noise," Jean snapped as the alcohol began working against his mood.

"This is why you don't get invited out with the other interns Kirstein," Ymir said flatly.

"I honestly don't give shit," the young man stated with little enthusiasm. "I'm too busy running around the hospital to worry about my social life."

"You know, that's kind of sad," Levi interjected. Watching Jean sink the eight ball and, as a result, win the game, the off duty surgeon furrowed his brows. "Don't you have any other friends besides Eren, Blouse, and Arlert?"

"Yeah, but it doesn't make much of a difference since they're firefighters. Anyways, I'm done," he sighed, tossing the pole into the center of the empty table. Grabbing his beer, Jean began walking toward the back exit which opened up to the overflow parking lot. "I'm going to get some air. Someone else can play." 

\----------------------------------------------------------

Jean had no idea why he was so pissed off or what he was stewing over. All he knew was that the last game had somehow put him in a pretty foul mood. Maybe it was the way in which they were ripping on each other without any consideration for the others' profession. No, that didn't make sense since Connie and Mikasa joked about how it was only a matter of time until he and Eren were kicked out of the medical program. Those two were yards worse than anything the trio inside could hash out so it couldn't be that.

Balanced on top of the railing that separated the back smoking area from the parking lot, the young man released a sigh; watching his breath materialize in the cold March air as a long stream of faint white vapor. Sitting there in the relative silence, he closed both eyes and listened to sound of cars driving by in the distance, a neighboring shop keeper throw out the trash, and the bus down the road open its doors to let passengers off before motoring on down the street. 

With his head tilted up, his gaze opened to the see the stars above blinking in and out of view as the marine layer carpeted the sky. It was a full moon so the everything from the asphalt to the roofs of the dozen or so cars in the back lot were painted over by the pale white glow that weakened then strengthened as the clouds rolled on by. 

While his eyes were closed, Jean missed Marco as he exited the bar. It was a lucky thing, too, that he had gone unnoticed because the brunette took it as an opportunity to soak in the moment.

It was clear that the intern was attracted to Marco since his eyes gave everything away. However, he clearly hadn't taken a look in the mirror lately because he was just as beautiful. Quietly, the brunette leaned against one of the wooden round tables with both arms folded across his chest. Before him was a man so lovely that he hardly seemed real. 

Washing over his finely crafted facial features, the milky moonlight only worked to enhance the ethereal beauty Jean naturally possessed. Those long lashes that dusted the tops for his perfectly arched cheekbones. Those soft full lips that let out a faint sigh and quaked from the chill that had worked its way over his bones. That long pale throat with skin so delicate, Marco felt the urge to reach out and touch it and marvel at how seamlessly it melded into his strong shoulders and collarbone. 

Most enchanting of all were those amber eyes that seemed to come alive with smoldering embers from the fires captured behind those glittering iris's. Those eyes that had suddenly turned away from their dream-like trance to gaze down at Marco... It was as if he had been nailed through the heart.

For a long moment, the two men watched each other. It were as if time had stopped, the planet had stilled, and the moon was frozen in its path just so that this moment could last forever. Marco felt his chest ache and his heart throb. If he was mildly interested in Jean before, now he was definitely bewitched. How could anyone so dazzling exist in the real world? Maybe he was dreaming. Maybe Marco had fallen and hit his head when he was chasing Scout and was in a coma where he was haunted by this beautiful man.

"You know it's rude to stare," Jean began as a small smile played across his lips.

"So I've been told," Marco breathed. "I couldn't help myself though," he said as the other mans' expression twisted into one of confusion. "You're beautiful Jean."

The young man almost choked on the shock the words delivered to his system. Beautiful? Him? The guy that Eren used to call "Neigh-belline" when they were kids... Marco thought he was beautiful? Not a chance. There was no way but the look on the mans' face suggested otherwise.

Looking down at the ground, Jean chuckled; the sound ending with a sigh. "You got the wrong guy. I'm as plain as toast. But thanks for the kind words."

Shaking his head, the brunette pushed away from the table. "Unlike you, I've got twenty-twenty vision."

Making his way around the metal enclosure that Jean was perched on, Marco stopped right in front of the young man--with only inches separating them. Tilting his head up only a little, the older man drudged up all the courage he had and rested his hands on top of Jeans'. It was a surprise how cold they were to the touch. He stared at their hands for a brief moment, smiling gently when their fingers slowly knitted together. Marco couldn't tell if it was his hands that were shaking or Jeans or maybe both. What he did know was that it amazed him how perfectly they fit together; like two puzzle pieces finally joined after being separated for years.

Turning his gaze, Marco was met by those amber eyes that had followed him into his dreams each and every night since the day they had met on the bluffs. Jean really was from another world; possibly a different galaxy far from here where physical perfection had at long last been achieved.

"My eye sight is perfectly clear, you know," he said, almost as a whisper as the space between them shrank without either noticing. "Right now, all I see is you Jean Kirstein and you are beautiful."

Unable to stop himself, Jean leaned forward to capture those lips he had been dying to kiss all night. They were so soft and warm against his that had gone chapped from the cold air, it was almost criminal how good they felt. Drowning in the tenderness of the moment, the young man shyly parted his mouth open giving Marco the opportunity to back out if he wanted to. But instead of pulling away, the brunette pressed in--their open mouths meeting in a slow disgustingly perfect kiss. Jeans' heart raced when Marco's tongue slid over his. He was sweet yet had a hint of salt cutting through that reminded the younger man of the saltwater candies he used to love as a child. It was strange how comfortable he felt wrapped in the shared warmth--like it was home.

Parting just enough to speak, Marco swallowed down the fire burning through his nerves. "She's my sister," he rasped.

"What?" Jean asked as he watched those dark thick lashes open to reveal the brunette's smoldering woodsy gaze. "Who is?"

"Ymir. She's my older sister. That ring on her finger is from her fiancee, Krista."

"Krista? You mean she's--"

"Gay," Marco smiled with a childlike innocence to way the apple's of his cheeks curved to reveal two dimples. "Just like me."

"You're gay?"

"I wouldn't be kissing you if I weren't. I like you Jean. Since the day we met at the bluffs, I had been hoping to have the chance to talk to you again. I just wasn't expecting you to be one of my sisters' interns."

"Wait, you like me? Why?"

Shrugging, Marco loosely wrapped his arms around Jean's waist. "I haven't quite figured that out yet because it all happened so fast but you're in my head Jean. So much so that it's kind of freaking me out. But I know that I really honestly do like you."

"Damn," Jean breathed as he moved his left hand to comb through Marco's hair without so much as thinking about what he was doing.

"Tell me about it," the brunette chuckled, placing an chaste kiss on the younger mans' neck, chin, then lips. "So, could you tell me the one thing I don't know..."

"Which is?"

"Do you like me?"

It took a moment for Jean to process the question; especially when Marco's large eyes were trained on him doing nothing to help his scrambling mind. Did he like him? Or was this just infatuation? Jean had been charmed and intrigued by other men before but they had never lingered in the back of his waking mind. They never invaded his dreams or caused his heart to race in such a dangerous manner. 

Now that he thought about it, that was probably why he had been pissed earlier. After talking at the bar, Marco had reverted back to chatting with Ymir and Levi, leaving Jean out of the loop. 'I was jealous?' the man asked himself silently as realization dawned on him.

Turning back to that gaze of warm earthen brown that he wanted nothing more than to drown in, Jean tilted his head down to kiss Marco softly on the lips. They lingered like that for what felt like an eternity until they parted. Pressing his forehead against the brunettes, Jean breathed out before answering.

"I like you; probably a lot more than I know," the young man spoke with a slight rasp to his voice. Was he really getting choked up right now? When he opened his eyes, he was greeted by Marco's warm smile. "Damn, how do you do that?"

"Do what?" Marco asked as Jean's hands cupped either side of his face.

"How do you catch me off guard like that every time?"

"I'm not following but...sorry?"

Shaking his head from side to side, Jean chuckled. "Whatever, it's nothing. I'm sure I'll get used to it over time."

"So that answers my next question."

"Being...?"

"If you're alright with this not being just a casual thing."

"Are you asking me out Marco?" Jean grinned, trying to look as mischievous as possible but crumbled with every peck on the lips and cheeks.

"I am," the older man said as his grip tightened just a bit more around the others' lean toned frame. "But if you want to go old school here then, Jean Kirstein, would you go out with me?"

Groaning from the mixture of joy and embarrassment, the younger man couldn't do anything but smile and laugh at how awkward they were.

"Yes," Jean said with half his face hidden behind his hands. "Yeah, I'll go out with you. God, you're such a dork."

Laughing, Marco nuzzled into Jean's shoulder then pivoted just enough so that he could kiss the small beauty mark he had just spotted in the hollow of his throat. "Hey Jean?"

"Yeah?" Jean replied as he rested his cheek on top of the brunette's head, breathing in that rich smoky summer scent that radiated from him.

"Thanks."

Pulling away just to kiss Marco's forehead, Jean smiled. "You're welcome."

....31 days until fire season.....


	2. Rescue Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean finds out what exactly Marco does for a living, the hospital see's an emergency like no other, Krista comes home, and our couples learn how to lean on one another.
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> \--WARNING!: So I told everyone that there was going to be gore and scenes of violence/injury in this fic because being a doctor and firefighter isn't easy. I just wanted to reaffirm this because this chapter is going to be the first of the many that will involve those themes. Since these can be triggering, I wanted to give you--my lovely readers--the head's up so that you can steel yourself for anything that may come.

Life was good; too good. It had been a while since things had been this peaceful for Jean and it was starting to freak him out. For the past week and a half since he and Marco had come clean to one another, things were on the up and up. Work was gradually getting easier to handle and, despite being a magnet for the oddball patients, he was beginning to enjoy waking up for rounds. Apart from Ymir's constant staring or her abusing her position as his resident to pile more work on him more than the others, Jean had no trouble getting along with his superiors. Levi had even allowed him to scrub in on a craniotomy two days ago after the young intern had discovered that the cause of Mr. Gonzales's seizures was an internal hemorrhage in his frontal lobe that had taken almost a week to present symptoms since it was so small in size.

Outside of work, well, the intern couldn't remember the last time he had been so excited to be in the company of someone other than his close friends. In the last nine days, Jean and Marco had gone on twelve dates; sometimes squeezing three outings into one day. Varying from grabbing a quick bite to eat before he had to scrub in to assist with a surgery to seeing a Dodgers game on his day off, the time they spent together was always enjoyable regardless of how long they lasted. Hell, they didn't even have to be talking to appreciate each other's company.

But of all their outings, Jean's favorite date was yesterday when they had spent the entire day hiking through Malibu Creek State Park. From sun up to an hour before sundown, the two men trekked along winding paths, climbed every rock wall, watched a pair of angry male crawfish fight over a mud dwelling, and explored the trails along the riverbed until they had reached a dead end. When the day was at its hottest, they took a break from hiking to go rock jumping into the lake that had become so full with water from the last storm that it was over ten feet deep and had spilled over into the tributaries. 

Jean remembered nearly dying of shock when Marco did a back flip off a mammoth boulder that towered thirty feet or so above the waters. The moment the brunette popped up on the surface and began to groan, the intern swam over to see if he was injured. However, it had been a trick. As soon as Jean had come within an arms' reach, Marco grabbed hold of him and pulled the young man in for a long deep kiss. The older man tried to swim off while wearing that sly grin of his but Jean caught him by the leg and pushed him under water as revenge for that tasteless joke; though he didn't mind it so much in hindsight. Yet, the real surprise was what came after the hike.

Instead of dropping Jean off at home, Marco swung by the supermarket, bought an assortment of seafood and steaks, and then drove back to his place in La Cañada. When they pulled up to the home the brunette co-owned with his best friend Kat, the eyes almost fell out of the interns' head. Nestled away on Flintridge Ave. was a large Tudor styled home with dark exposed wooden beams and pale dove white paneling. It was so secluded that the car had to turn down a steep downhill road to reach the location that was hidden at the foot of the hill it was built on. 

"Jesus," Jean gasped when he saw the 'humble' home. "There's no way this is your place."

Chuckling, Marco just exited the car and grabbed the groceries from the seat behind him. "Even better is that the government pays the mortgage during fire season when I'm out on assignment."

"Wait, what? You can't be serious," the young man gawked; his astonishment doubled when he saw Marco's sly smirk.

Since his house mate would be out for the evening, the two men had the place all to themselves. Taking advantage of the situation, Marco turned on his favorite jazz music to hum along to while he cooked. As "Moonlight Serenade" by Glenn Miller and his orchestra played throughout the downstairs, Jean wandered from room to room in the hopes of learning a little bit more about the man he had come home with. The decor was seamlessly and tastefully done, combining Marco's affection for rustic lodge inspired living and Kat's ranch and equestrian themed motifs. Above the river stone fireplace in the spacious yet cozy living room was a painting of a black stallion on its hind legs by G.H. Rothe with a larger lithograph of multiple running horses by the same artist hung over the couch on the adjacent wall.

Connected to the living space was a long hallway that veered off into a study on the right and a modest library to the left. Backtracking into the main room, Jean slid the patio door open. In an instant, he was greeted by the cool evening air that smelled of lush forest moss and hickory scent woods that were both smoky and sweet. Closing his eyes, he took a long deep breath--appreciating how crisp and clean and alive it was in his lungs before exhaling. Then, with a faint look of wonder on his face, Jean leaned against the wooden railing of the raised patio with his warm amber eyes gazing out into the woods. Not only was there a small river running through the property but, in the distance, he could spot several foot trails that led deeper into the forest of grand old oaks.

As he took in the view, Jean felt a pair of warm arms wrap around him and soft lips kiss his shoulder. Humming happily at the contact, the young man rolled his head to the side so that Marco could rest his head in the crook of his neck. They remained that way for a long minute or two--silent while watching the light leave the woods. Crickets chirped loudly and two neighboring owls called to each other in the dim of the early dusk. Somewhere off in the distance coyotes could be heard howling at the top of the hill. It was so peaceful that he was almost compelled to stay the evening.

"It's beautiful," Jean breathed softly.

Pulling him closer, Marco smiled. "Yeah. Kat and I wanted a place away from all the noise where we could relax after a brutal season. She liked how close the house was to the stables she houses her horses at. For me though, this view was what had me sold."

"I can imagine. If it were me though, I would have bought the whole damn mountain."

"Ha! That'd be nice though I doubt my work subsidy would cover that. You know, this is my favorite place to be. Whenever I'm tired or just beat from work, I come out here. Sometimes without even thinking about it, I'll find myself out here staring at nothing for hours."

"Well, from what I've seen, I like this spot too. I mean, the house is great but I like it here the most."

"Really? Well I call first dibs," Marco joked. "Although I think there's enough room for the both of us."

"I don't mind sharing," Jean smirked turning around in the embrace so that he was facing the brunette with his back pressed against the railing. "But speaking of work, what is it exactly that you do? I know you're a firefighter but what kind?"

Hesitating, Marco chewed on his bottom lip knowing that his answer was going to upset him. "I don't know if I should say."

"Why?"

"You won't like it."

"What makes you say that?" Jean chuckled moving his hands up to frame the man's handsome face. When he saw the look in his deep brown eyes, something made his stomach knot. "Please tell me. I promise, I can handle whatever it is."

"I'm a captain with wildlands and sometimes I'm called in by the smokejumpers but..."

"But?"

Looking into those pools of swirling golden amber, Marco sighed. "I'm also a temp IHC hotshot for the Santa Clarita team."

The brunette was right. Jean did not like the answer; not one bit. Marco was a hotshot? Just like his father who had died while out on assignment in Yosemite? This wasn't possible. This wasn't real. It couldn't be. What were the odds that the first man he had fallen for in six years would be in the exact same line of work as his deceased father? But even more perplexing was how Marco knew he wouldn't be happy to hear that answer. Steadying his heart, Jean thought about his words for a long moment before he posed his next question.

"How did you know I'd be opposed to that?" he asked calmly though his hands were shaking.

Taking Jeans' trembling hands in his, Marco slid them off his face so that they were hanging between them. Staring at their fingers as they knitted themselves together, the man didn't know what he should say. It was better to tell the truth even if it meant bringing up painful memories. From the moment they had met, Marco knew he liked Jean and that, after their first date, he wanted to be in a committed relationship with him. And trust and honesty had to be the foundation of that relationship if it were to last. So, with apologetic eyes, the brunette told his companion what he had been waiting to hear.

"I knew because you're father was one of the seven hotshots that died in the Storm Ridge fire back in 2007. My superintendent Keith was good friends with him and still talks about him from time to time. I'm sorry Jean, I should’ve told you sooner but I--"

"It's fine," Jean said, swallowing hard on the nerves that had built up at the back of his throat. "I mean, you're right, I don't like it at all. It's almost fucked up that I would fall for a guy that has the same job as my father but," he paused to look up at Marco, "but I can live with it. So long as you don't do anything stupid or try to be some hero."

"No promises there," Marco chuckled with a small sniffle.

"I'm serious Marco. I like you more than I've ever liked another person and I don't know what to do with myself. You literally popped in out of nowhere and messed everything up," he smiled weakly before biting anxiously on his lip. "I want to make this work. But you have to promise that you'll stay safe and, when everything is going to shit, you'll do the smart thing and get out of the burn zone while you still can. Please?"

Tapping their foreheads together, the brunette closed his eyes and nodded. "I can do that," he breathed then kissed the young man softly on the nose. "I'll come back in one piece, promise."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," the older man smiled, his big brown eyes sparkling from the warmth reflected back into them.

Over dinner, Marco offered to take Jean home if he was uncomfortable spending the night. However, the intern said he didn't mind sleeping over since his shift did not start until noon the next day. Marco looked happier than was necessary when Jean agreed but he didn't care. Nor did Jean for that matter. It was nice to see how greatly his company was appreciated.

After cleaning up, they relaxed on the couch for a while longer--having a few drinks and chatting in between moments of silence during which they watched the dying fire in the river stone niche. This kind of peace had long evaded both men mainly due to their line of work. From sun up to sundown, Jean lived, breathed, ate, and shat surgery. There were weeks when, over the course of seven days, he got a total of twelve hours of sleep. Between doing his rounds, running labs for Ymir who was being harder on him than the others, and scrubbing in on two surgeries a day, the young man was thoroughly exhausted. A couple times he had even fallen asleep in the shower; slumped in a corner only to be woken by Eren when the brunette came in to brush his teeth.

On the other hand, Marco was worn down from playing catch up. As his physician, Ymir forbade him from taking part in any of the more extreme hikes and workouts his team had scheduled for the week. Fire season was less than a month away which meant he'd be spending the better half of four months holed up in the station or out on a job. The recent rainstorms had helped a great deal with watering the wildlands but there were still dry areas--or "ignition spots" as they were known in the firefighter community--that were prone to catching fire. And the sudden outburst of a brush fire up in Washington had left his district down by one hotshot team which meant, much to Ymir's dismay, that he was now on-call for temporary IHC duty until the crew returned from putting out the Bottle Neck Fire. As such, Marco had to be in top physical form and skipping the ten-mile hikes through the canyon wasn't helping.

However, the time that would have been spent drudging up mountains and through hot dry lands was now his to spend with Jean. So, in a way, his momentary leave from the team was a mixed blessing. Yes, Marlo would be kicking his ass even harder to get him into shape next Monday but right now he had the gift of getting to relax on his couch in his cozy home with the man who had stolen his heart. In the short time that had passed since they began dating, Marco had learned more about Jean than he would have if he were taking part in team exercises.

The brunette wanted to know the little things like his favorite color which was dark blue, what kind of music he listened to, and what type of movies he liked and disliked. Even when he wasn't asking questions, Marco was observing Jean to find out what he could. He knew the young man favored savory foods over sweet but had a penchant for sweeter fruits like pineapple, strawberries, and cherries. Jean also liked to chew strawberry Hubba Bubba gum, sometimes blowing bubbles the size of his hand when he was bored or thinking. 

Sitting on the couch and listening to the man talk about the hospital also gave Marco some hints as to the kind of person he was while at work. Despite what Jean thought, the brunette well liked by his superiors. The fact that Levi let him scrub in for three cases in one week meant that he showed a strong aptitude for neurology. But Ymir had also let him fly with her on two surgeries and even allowed him to assist with a tumor debulking which was just as big of a deal as Levi letting him into his OR. Marco was already well aware of how intelligent Jean was but to have an attending and numerous residents tapping on him to help with cases was something else. 

"You really are brilliant," Marco said more to himself as his companion regaled him with the story of how he and Eren had to 'crack a chest open, bedside.'

Pausing, a faint blush dusted Jean's cheeks. "Uh, thanks I guess. It's really nothing though compared to Ymir. She's done so much more than me and--"

"I know but that's my sister who's already a resident. You're still an intern yet you've already clocked, what, twenty hours in surgery this week. You have natural talent Jean."

"Not really..."

"Jean, just take the compliment," Marco laughed as he leaned across the couch to kiss the young man sweetly on the lips. "We should probably turn in. I have to see my cardiologist tomorrow before meeting up with the crew and you have a long day ahead of you since Eren took your pre-rounds in exchange for the overnight call."

"God, I wish I hadn't swapped with him."

"Well from what I've heard, he hasn't seen Levi outside of work since that night at Casey's so he deserves an evening to himself."

"I highly doubt he'll be spending it alone," Jean snorted a laugh as he got up from the couch and followed Marco into the kitchen to put their wine glasses in the sink. "I just hope he spends the night at Levi's so that I don't have to listen to them in the morning."

"They're that rowdy, huh?"

"You don't even want to know."

"Ha! Alright, I'll stop with the questions."

Heading up the curved staircase, Marco led Jean down the hall with his hand gently holding onto the young mans'. They walked along, the brunette answered questions about where certain things were located--like the bathroom and lights for the hall--in case he had to get up in the middle of the night. When they got to the master suite, Jean had to force himself not to gasp at how grand and beautiful the space was. Like downstairs, it had been remodeled to match the feel of a country lodge. The dark wood of the refinished floors and ceiling beams offset the creamy walls and the grey plaid blanket and faux owl feather throw that was draped across the foot of the king size bed. There wasn't a television in sight, likely because Marco wasn't too interested in the pastime. Instead there was a large oak writing desk and three floor to ceiling bookshelves. In the corner by the bay window that was outfitted with charcoal gray cushions and champagne colored striped pillows was a record player and a two repurposed wooden crates full of vinyl albums.

Running his fingers along the surface of the desk, Jean tried to imagine what Marco used it for. Most people had studies or did their writing in the dining room of their home. But this was different. There were notebooks tucked away in the pigeonholes and pens, pencils, and paintbrushes crammed into old coffee mugs with coal smudged sham swatches hanging from the lip of the ceramic cup. At first, the young man wanted to guess that he was a writer but that wouldn't account for the varying types of paintbrushes and charcoal sticks that had been sharpened to a point, as if they were waiting to be used.

"You draw?" Jean guessed as he tapped the tip of a 9H shading pencil. Looking to his left, he saw the brunette leaning in the doorway, smiling, with both arms folded across his chest. "I didn't know that."

With a small chuckle, Marco shrugged away from the entryway. "Yeah, I went to school for animation and got a master's in fine arts."

"Seriously?"

"Let me guess, I don't look like the tragic artist type?" the brunette teased.

"Not at all," Jean said, still somewhat in a state of disbelief. "What else do you do?"

"What, like hobbies?" Marco paused briefly to think, wondering if anything about him was interesting enough to mention. "I guess photography but that's more of a pastime. For the most part I stick with art because it's really all I know how to do; well, and music but it's nothing impressive."

"Nothing impressive?" Jean said eyeing the two diploma's from NYU; both with major's in the fine arts while one had a double major in art history and music theory and composition. "You say I'm brilliant yet you have two degrees from NYU and four awards for Best In Show for your artwork. It kinda makes me wonder why you're a firefighter."

"Because I enjoy firefighting as a career and art as a hobby. Ymir doesn't get it either and my mom said I'd change my mind eventually," he smiled shyly, rubbing the back of his neck while they both looked up at his diploma's. "But my job makes me happy. When I was in school, the pressure to create something drove me crazy and there were so many days when I'd spend an entire class period glaring at a blank canvas. But when I went home, the ideas came naturally. I didn't have to worry about meeting a deadline or what critics would say. So I decided to keep it to myself and make a living putting out fires."

"As much as I want to hate that answer, I get where you're coming from."

"Really?"

Nodding, Jean leaned against Marco with his head resting on the other mans' shoulder. "The art someone creates is like an extension of their soul so, in a way, you're putting yourself up for review every time there's an exhibition. I can imagine why it'd be stressful. Although I am curious now. Maybe some day you'll let me see?"

"Hmm," Marco hummed as their hands clasped together. "I think I can arrange that. I'd have to go digging through the garage since most of my pieces are in cold storage. For now, it's time to turn in."

Peeling apart from one another, the brunette opened up the walk in closet to retrieve something for Jean to sleep in. After the young man had showered and changed into the black jogger pants and grey t-shirt it was Marco's turn. Taking a quick rinse, he let the hot water undo the knots in his shoulders and flush out the sweat that had coated his hair earlier in the day. Following that, he brushed his teeth, washed his face, and then pulled out his phone to set three alarms for the morning. Marco had never been an early riser but, when work demanded it, he had to oblige. It was just a shame that they wouldn't have all of the morning to themselves tomorrow. 'If only I had scheduled the cardiologist appointment for three-thirty instead of ten,' the brunette pouted silently to himself.

When he entered his room, Marco was caught off guard by the heavenly image of Jean sitting at the foot of the bed. Taking a moment, he filed the sight away in his mind hoping there would be many more to come. Just the idea of the young man wearing his clothing was enough to turn him on. But seeing the intern in Marco's sleeping clothes while sitting on his bed did things to him; things that would earn a slap across the face if he were to voice them out loud. Looking up from his phone, Jean caught the other man staring at him incredulously.

"What?" the ashen blonde said with a little smile. "You look like you've seen the second coming or something."

"No," Marco answered slowly with a meaningful shake of his head. "I'm just committing the sight of you on my bed to memory."

"Well then I get to do the same the first time you stay over at my place," Jean stated flatly as if his staring didn't bother him at all even though his cheeks were already flushed.

"Deal," the older man smirked as he closed the bathroom door and flicked off the bedroom lights.

As Jean crawled underneath the blankets, Marco plopped down with a heavy sigh; finally feeling the aches and pains of the day catching up to him. Cracking his neck and back, he could feel his bedmate cringe at the sounds. Despite being a surgical intern, Jean still couldn't stand the sound of bones cracking or breaking. He tolerated it at work but Marco could see that it bothered him. So with a little chuckle, he popped his elbow just to see what would happen. When a small rectangular throw pillow smacked the back of his head, he took it as a silent protest for him to knock it off.

Laying down, the brunette immediately rolled onto his side so that they were facing each other. He didn't plan to put the moves on Jean and, from the tired look on the other mans face, neither did he. But that did not detract from how sweet the moment was nor did it make it any less tense. Reaching out, Marco took hold of the young mans' hand that was laying on the pillow between them. It was funny how just that alone made him happier than he had in previous relationships. Just touching Jean was like holding onto moonbeams; precious and beautiful.

"Jean," Marco breathed as the man shifted away from his side of the bed.

Under the cover of night, Jean closed the space between them and kissed Marco. It was a long yet innocent embrace like high school sweethearts testing the waters for the first time. When they parted, it was only for a moment. Seconds later, the brunette reached up to bring the other man back down to him. Their mouths met in an open kiss that was all heat and tongues sliding over one another. It was similar to the time they had locked lips while swimming in the lake earlier that day. However, this time, there was confidence in their movements. It was obvious that the attraction was mutual, but to what degree they were both uncertain of until that moment.

Combing one hand through Jean's short blonde hair, Marco used his other to bring the man as close to him as he could get. The brunette couldn't get enough of him. That smile that brought light to his dreamy amber eyes. The rich laughter that made his heart sing. That incredible sarcasm and sharp wit that had Marco in stitches every time. He adored everything about Jean and found himself wanting to lean into his light more and more each time they met. And now, with this kiss, he was sure that the intern felt the same way about him.

"We should really get to sleep," Jean protested in between the hot kisses; moaning a little when Marco bit his bottom lip. "Fuck, you're too good."

Kissing from his lips down to Jean's throat, Marco bit the skin where the shoulder meets the neck, earning a delightful gasp from his partner. "We most definitely should," he said with a strangled growl as the young man knotted his fingers in his dark hair. "Christ Jean, you're so perfect."

The heat of the moment reached sweltering as Jean clawed into Marco's shoulders as the man bit down on his weak spot and the brunette pressed harder against him when the action elicited a long throaty moan from his partner. They both knew they needed to stop; that things were moving too fast. But a part of them didn't care. The attraction was immediate between them and both men knew it. Some strange magic had hit them that day on the bluff's and now Marco haunted Jean's dreams and waking thoughts and Jean was always in Marco's head. Now that they could finally touch each other, neither one wanted to let go.

Tangling their legs together while Jeans' chest heaved for air against his, Marco felt as if he had fallen into another one of his dreams. Parting after a kiss that had left them both winded, the brunette studied the young mans' face that he held in his hands. Jean was just as lovely now as he was the night they talked in the back alley at Casey's and the morning they had met at Point Dume. Those soft lips, that perfect Athenian nose, and that beautifully sharp jawline that was eased only by the strength of his honey eyes. Marco wanted so badly to draw Jean in that moment so that it would forever be remembered. 'How beautiful you are Jean Kirstein,' he thought to himself while his left thumb rubbed the curve of the young mans' chin and jaw.

Kissing the blonde but with more reserve and propriety, Marco then kissed his nose and forehead before sighing gently. "Night Jean."

Chuckling, Jean draped his arm over Marco's waist and back with the other pressed against his chest. "Night Marco. See you in the morning."

\------------------------------------------------------------------

A quiet board was never a good thing. Viewed as one of the worst possible omens by people in the medical field, a quiet surgical board was right up there with crossing paths with a black cat, breaking a mirror, or walking under a ladder. So when Jean saw how sparse the surgery schedule was when he came in to work the following morning he immediately knew that something bad was going to happen. He didn't say anything though because voicing it would worsen the juju coming their way. It was one of the many tips his mother had given him on his first day of class at Yale.

"Quiet board, huh," Sasha said between bites of her breakfast muffin while the other interns changed into their scrubs. Following her comment came a collective groan with a few scattered sighs. "What?!"

"Thanks Sash," Eren muttered under his breath.

However, unlike his friends, who had family in the medical field which meant they knew better, Jean clued her in as he tugged on his white lab coat.

"A silent board is bad luck Sasha. It's even worse when you mention it," the young blonde said in a low tone as he passed by.

"Oh come on guys. We're doctors not suburban housewives," the brunette shouted as Jean and Eren walked out. "You don't really believe all that do you? Guys?"

As if on queue to prove the young woman wrong, each and every pager on every intern and resident began beeping. Glancing down at his device, Jean's eyes went wide. 'A triage incident?' he thought. 'This can't be happening.' But when he looked to Eren and Micaiah next to him, he knew it wasn't a drill. Seconds later, Ymir came bolting down the hallway flanked by Armin, Hanji, and the new resident, Eld. They marched toward the herd of interns with purpose, as if just the look in their eyes were answer enough.

"There's been a massive collision on the highway involving two big rigs, one gas tanker, and fifty other cars," Ymir said with a glacial expression in full control of her features. "We need to divide you guys up, half of you are coming with Arlert, Zoe, Jinn, and I to the crash site to assist with the triage procedure. The other half will stay here to sort the incoming patients and assist the attendings in surgery."

"Those of you whose pagers read 'triage' will be coming to the crash sight," Hanji spoke, her normal abundance of energy suddenly stripped down to something much more serious. "Those whose pagers read 'assist' will stay at the hospital. Verify what your assigned unit is and then, those of you coming to the sight, are to meet at the entrance to the trauma ward. Make sure you have your medical evaluation kit and first aid pack."

Turning to Eren and Micaiah, Jean asked if either of them were on his team. When they shook their heads, that was all the answer he needed. At least Sasha and Lenore were on his team. He hadn't really gotten the chance to talk with the other three--Harper, Caesar, and Trent, so he didn't know what their strong suits were. But right now wasn't the time or place for that. They had to grab their kits and change out of their lab coats and into the blue Cedars-Sinai jackets they wore on medical trips such as when they went to do a harvest for an organ donation.

Running back to the locker room, Jean was the first to change out and pick up his equipment pack and evaluation kit. Pausing for a moment, he glanced at his cell phone; wondering if he should bring it or not. If something happened to him, he wanted to be able to notify someone; especially since a tanker had tipped over and was coating the ground they'd be working around in combustible gasoline. Slipping the device into the inside pocket of his scrub shirt, the blonde raced out of the door, cursing the quiet board under his breath.

Among the first to leave for the sight was Jean, Sasha, and Caesar in an ambulance with Armin and Ymir. No one spoke a word since everyone was busy going over protocol in their head. There would be severe lacerations, possible disembowelment and amputations to deal with, and most definitely a varying array of burns and breaks. Sitting across from Ymir, Jean whispered under his breath the ten different kinds of fatal breaks and how to treat them. With his eyes closed he would tap a finger for each type while stating their symptoms, dangers, and prognosis. She watched him as he did this for a good five minutes until a sudden dip in the road broke his train of thought.

Their eyes connected the moment his opened; fire meeting fire. Yet, whereas he was a nervous wreck, she was calm and collected as if she did this every day. But, like her brother, her eyes betrayed her. They were too expressive. 'Just like Marco,' he thought. Clearing his throat, Jean figured he'd try to say something to ease the tension that had been building between them for the past week. However, like she always did, Ymir beat him to the punch.

"I take it he told you he's a temp for the IHC, right?"

Biting back his bottom lip, Jean nodded slowly. "Yeah. Last night actually."

"And you're okay with that?"

It was strange but, for a moment, Jean could have sworn he saw sympathy in her eyes. It would figure that--if Marco knew about his father--his sister would know too. Hell, the funeral service for him and his fallen teammates had been broadcasted on TV. So it wouldn't be a shock if she had seen his surname among those belonging to the deceased.

"Yeah, I'm alright with it. I don't particularly like it but it's what he loves," Jean said loud enough that only she could hear. He wasn't anywhere ready for others to know that he was dating his boss's brother. "It's not my place to stop him from pursuing his goal. I just hope that he isn't reckless and tries to be the hero. The world has enough of those and they never live long anyway."

"Too right, Kirstein," Ymir murmured with a tone of desolation. "Too right."

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Just wondering why this had to happen today of all days. Damn fucking quiet board," she growled.

"You're starting to sound like Ackerman."

"Ha!" Ymir chuckled bitterly. "If only I could have some of his luck."

"Bott?"

"I'm fine," she said shaking her head as they arrived at the crash sight. "Lets just get this over with. We've got a long day ahead of us and it doesn't stop when the triage finishes." Now turning to face everyone at the back of the cabin as the doors opened, Ymir shouted, "'Kay, let's look alive!"

Leaping out of the ambulance, the doctors were greeted by fire, thick billowing clouds of black smoke, burnt flesh, and screams of misery. First-responders were working to sort the people as they were pulled from the wreckage but the grime and black muck covering their skin made it difficult to assess their injuries. One man who had been recovered from the truck the tanker had rolled on top of was so badly burned that the top layer of his skin peeled off like a sheet from a bed being made. 

On the ground a yard away from the living was a row of filled black body bags. Jean saw one as it was being zipped up and felt his stomach wretch at the sight of a gutted female with half her arm severed from her body. She must have been the young female in the SUV that had blown after it had rolled and was smacked by the first big rig. It was like stepping out into a war zone after the battle had been won. The winners and losers couldn't be differed from one another because everyone had the look of fear on their face; like they had stared death in the eyes for too long. All that was left to do was pick up the pieces and see who could be saved. But in a sea of charred bodies and bloodied bits and pieces, where did one start?

"Holy hell," Jean breathed. "What happened?"

\------------------------------------------------------------------

The stream of patients coming into Cedars-Sinai had spiked in the last hour since the emergency triage had gone into effect. Coupled with a designated resident or attending, the interns were tasked with sorting the incoming traffic and to make sure that they made it to the proper ward and had the correct paperwork and labs drawn. A fair few who had shown increased aptitude for emergency surgery scrubbed in to assist with cases. Of those were Eren. As a head trauma patient with a fractured vomer, mandible, shattered nasal bone, and a fractured spine rolled in, the young brunette was the first to handle the case. When Levi came down to look over surgical board he saw the man Eren was assessing.

"This man needs immediate care," Levi said as he interjected the informative conversation the medics were having with Eren. Looking at the MET tag marked for yellow with a small dash through the red, the surgeon pulled a small flashlight out of his back pocket. "Sir, my name is Doctor Ackerman. I'm a surgeon at Cedars-Sinai. Can you please tell me what your name is?"

"I-Ignacio Hernandez," the man sputtered, trying not to panic as he had been instructed by the people in the ambulance. "I-I'm not going to die am I? I was on my way to pick up my girls from school and t-this massive...giant truck just slammed straight into me. I didn't even have time to blink. I just--"

"It'll be alright Mr. Hernandez. We're going to book you for surgery. This young man here is Doctor Jaeger. He will be working with me so if you have any concerns, please let him know."

Before Levi could leave, Eren excused himself for a moment and grabbed the older man by the arm to lead him into a quiet zone of the ward. Drawing the curtain to separate them from the others, Eren waited until he was sure no one was listening.

"His tag was marked half way in the red Levi," Eren whispered. "Why would you say it's going to be alright if there's a real chance he could die?"

"Because if he loses hope then he most certainly will die. Look, in med school they teach us to be cold, clinical, and concise. But the mental state of a patient has just as much to do with the outcome of their surgery as the person holding the scalpel," Levi stated more harshly than was necessary in order to get his point across. "If that man thinks he's going to die then his will to fight will drop and that will affect his vitals. I would rather have him believing a lie then dreading the truth. We tell the families the truth because they can physically handle it. Understand?"

"Yes."

"Good. Now prep the patient and bring him up. We need to get this done swiftly and efficiently so that we can move on to the next person."

"Understood."

As Eren turned away, Levi grabbed his wrist and spun him back around for a quick kiss. "For good luck."

Kissing him again, Eren breathed out. "See you in theater three."

\----------------------------------------------------------------

"I need more hands over here!" Jean shouted as he worked to remove a woman from an overturned van. 

Crawling in through the shattered window on his back, he reached up to check her vitals. She was stable for the most part. However, his anxiety spiked when he noticed the pregnancy bump. Cursing under his breath, Jean called for help on his walkie for a second time. Just as the the voice on the other end confirmed immediate assistance, the woman suspended from her seat groaned then began to whimper from the pain she was in. The seatbelt had started to cut into her neck, chest, and the sensitive skin of her stomach. But Jean couldn't remove her safely until the team arrived.

"Miss, I need you to remain still and try to stay calm," he said as calmly as he himself could manage. "You've been in an accident but help is on its way."

"Who are you?" she began to cry; the salt from the tears stinging as they rolled over the cuts on her young face. "What happened? Why am I like this?"

"My name is Jean Kirstein. I'm a doctor from Cedars-Sinai and I'm here with the emergency response crew. A tanker hit your car but left you with only minor injuries."

"What about my baby? Is my baby alright?"

"I can't tell at the moment but if you move anymore you could risk hurting it. Do you understand?" When the woman shook her head, Jean breathed out. "What's your name?"

"Jenna. Jenna Grosman."

"Okay Jenna," he smiled; trying his best to keep her distracted. "I need to slip this tag around you wrist. It's going to tell the medics and EMT's what they need to know when you're transported to the hospital."

As he slid the elastic loop of the tag around her right hand, Jean could hear the crunching of glass under racing feet coming from behind him. Looking back to the redhead, he thought of something to talk about for a quick moment. He needed to keep her mind off of her injuries and the baby that could've possibly been hurt. It was in that moment that he remembered seeing a hiking club decal on the rear window.

"So, have you gone on any good hikes?" Jean asked. When he saw how confused she appeared to be, he smiled sympathetically. "Sorry, I saw the sticker on your rear window and I thought you may know a few good spots since you're a local."

Swallowing hard, Jenna took a moment to collect her thoughts. "Circle X Ranch," she stammered. "If you can make it past the donkey trails down the mountain, there's a lagoon you can go inside of at the end."

"Really? That sounds pretty cool. I'm new to the area so I'm open to recommendations."

"There's also a few trails in Malibu Creek Park."

Despite having already been there, Jean nodded. "Sounds like fun," he smiled when she smirked down at him. When the footsteps closed in on their location, he glanced at the responders then back to her. "Okay Jenna, these men are going to help you out of the car now. You may be uncomfortable when they cut you free but it'll be alright. It's only going to take a minute and then you'll be free as a bird, 'kay?"

"Alright. You're not going to leave right?"

"No, I'll stay right here until they get you out."

"Promise?"

"Promise," Jean affirmed before sliding out of the cabin. "Okay Jenna. We're going to start moving the car so you have to hold yourself steady. I want you to count to three, and then we're going to flip the car."

Taking a deep breath, she let out a small whimper of fear before swallowing it back down. "One...two...three."

\---------------------------------------------------------------

They were fighting a losing battle at the hospital but the few successes made the losses somewhat easier to manage. Eren was grateful Levi had intervened with Mr. Hernandez when he had because the positivity seemed to help. The surgery had been a success as were the two that followed. However, Petra--the attending for pediatrics--lost two children, one right after she had been rolled into the ER. And her husband, Oluo who was one of the attendings for trauma, lost four patients; three of which were a family with a teenage son.

There were just so many people coming in that they couldn't keep up. Even the nurses were scrambling to help whoever they could. It was the worst possible situation possible. Not only were there patients with burn injuries and breaks, but there were two pregnant women, a man with a near severed neck who had managed to survive, and a woman with a fractured right arm and two ribs whose husband had been impaled by a piece of debris from the truck. Miraculously, the man had lived but first-responders were still trying to free him from the car. 

Quickly the situation became too big for just one hospital so they had to start rerouting patients to Kindred Hospital, UCLA medical center, and Good Samaritan. Apart from there not being enough doctors and nurses for the trauma center to handle on its own, the staff had been going non-stop for the past fifteen hours since the accident had been reported. Now that there was a small lull in the number of surgeries calling for a neuro specialist, Levi, Eren, Oksana, and Carmen--the last two being Eld's intern--were breaked by the relief team. While the two women went to the cafeteria to grab something to eat, the brunette and the older surgeon headed to the on-call room to grab some shuteye.

Peeling the bloodied scrubs off of him, Levi wore a look of disgust as he tossed them in the discard bin and let the metal lid slam shut. Slipping on a new pair of dark blue scrubs, he flopped onto the bottom bunk of the fixture lining the right-hand side wall. Eren came in moments later; locking the door behind him. Like Levi, he too had changed out of the dirty scrubs he had been in all day. It was the first thing he had done once they were relieved by the night crew. Collapsing on the bed next to his lover, the tired brunette curled up beside him feeling the strain of the last fifteen hours sink into his bones.

"Fucking quiet board," Levi groaned while rubbing Eren's back. "Today has been absolute hell on earth."

"I know and it started out so nicely too," Eren moaned as he stretched his worn limbs. He wished they hadn't left his bed that morning. "I wonder how everyone else is doing out there with triage. I haven't heard from Jean or Sasha all day."

"They probably don't want to talk to anyone right now to be honest. If these are only half of the people being pulled out of the wreckage, I can only imagine what the rest of them look like."

"Yeah, that's true. Do you think they've been breaked by the replacement team?" the brunette asked as he closed his eyes; happily listening to the sound of his partner breathing deep and steadily beneath him.

After setting an alarm to wake them up in an hour, Levi let his eyes fall shut too. "They were most likely relieved an hour or two ago. Their job was much harder than ours. I've done triage before and it's physically taxing since you have to climb over wrecks and rubble in order to get to the patient. Sometimes you even have to help move things around and break windows and shit to get them out of wherever they're trapped."

"Sounds like a nightmare."

"That's because it is."

Eren was quiet for a long moment before he whispered, as a silent prayer, "Stay safe out there you guys."

Kissing the top of Eren's head, Levi nuzzled the soft hair atop his crown. "Get some sleep babe. You worked a long day and you need to rest. I'll wake you up if someone pages us."

"'Kay," the young man murmured, kissing the top of Levi's hand which was holding his firmly against the mans' chest. "Love you."

"Love you too."

\----------------------------------------------------------------

Ymir had never been so tired in her life. The past sixteen hours had been a walk through the maws of hell and she had just managed to drag herself out of it. This was nothing like the first triage she had done but damn, it was pretty close. At least with a train wreck everything is there in the cars. With cars, especially ones moving at high speeds on the freeway, pieces and people got thrown around and became scattered along the way. Between searching through rubble for the living only to find the remains of the deceased and handling hysterical patients screaming in her face, Ymir was moments away from breaking down.

As she pulled up to the driveway of her ocean front home, she turned off the engine then glanced at the rear view mirror. Frowning, Ymir wiped a stray smudge of dried blood that had stuck to the skin of her forehead. A shower was definitely in order. If only Krista were home to ease the pain of the day, then she could smile. It were times like these that had her missing her quirky fiery fiancee even more than what was normal. If she were here right now, Krista would wash Ymir's hair in the bath, give her a massage, let her cry if she needed it, and then make them tea before crawling in to bed.

But Krista wasn't home. She was up in Washington fighting a wildfire like the brave woman she was. With a heavy sigh, the tired brunette dragged herself from the car and headed to the front door. As she fumbled with the keys in the lock, the entrance swung open. There, framed by what must have been heaven's light was Krista; her guardian angel. 

Reaching out as if to test if she were real, Ymir held the woman's face in her hands. Breathing her name, the surgeon collapsed to her knee's and began to sob while her fiancee lovingly wrapped her arms around her in a protective embrace. Stroking her slim hand through Ymir's dark brown hair, Krista smiled softly before placing a tender kiss on the top of her head.

"It's alright Ymir," Krista said soothingly as the other woman continued to cry. "I'm home now."

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

Jean wasn't sure if what he was doing was a good idea or not. What he did know, however, was that he needed something good to shine through the shit storm he had just lived through. So, with tired eyes and a heavy heart, the young man took a chance and made the half hour drive to Marco's place. He knew that there was a good chance of Kat answering or no one being home at all. And that was fine, he guessed, since it was probably better not to burden Marco with his problems. But he just needed someone right now. After that kind of day, he didn't want to be alone and the person he wanted to talk to the most was the man he had been wishing would come and save him from the horrors he had to bear witness to.

Turning onto the downhill drive that led to the house, he was both relieved and nervous to see that the porch light and upstairs lights were on. Suddenly feeling anxious, Jean started to regret driving over. What if Marco thought he was overreacting and that he should just do his job? What if he told him to man up and that he was taking it too personally? No, no that didn't sound like the Marco he knew. But still. What if this crossed the line and made it too personal? What if it was too much baggage at once and too soon? Jean didn't want to scare him away by being too clingy. So to test the waters, he decided to text him.

JEAN: Hey, do you mind if I come over for a little bit?

MARCO: No. What's up?

JEAN: It's been a real shit day and I wanted someone to talk to. I hope you don't mind. I know you're probably tired from work.

MARCO: Were you on the triage assignment with Ymir? She texted me earlier today in case something happened.

JEAN: Yeah, I was with her on site.

MARCO: Shit, I'm sorry babe. Well, when you're up for it, you can get out of the car and join me on the front porch.

Eyes going wide at the last message, Jean looked up to see Marco sitting on the deck by the front porch that overlooked the woods. It was so dark that he had missed him. Making eye contact with the young man, the brunette waved once at him. He could see the look on Jean's face from where he was and it didn't look like things had gone well. He was paler and appeared as if he had been rubbed raw with stress, fear, and adrenaline.

As Jean exited the car and walked toward the porch, Marco got up to meet him halfway. The moment they were close enough that he could reach out and touch the intern, the brunette pulled him in to a firm loving embrace; allowing the blonde to go limp and break down. As Jean cried in his arms, Marco kissed the top of his head, his cheeks, nose, and then lips.

"It's alright babe," the older man said softly with one hand holding Jean's face while the other held the man up at the back. "Come on, let's go inside."

"Thank you Marco," Jean choked before they moved. Tightening his grip on the brunette's shirt, he sniffled. "Thank you for letting me come over."

"My door is always open to you Jean," Marco breathed lowly as he kissed him again; wiping a tear from the intern's cheek with his thumb. "Now let's get you cleaned up and put some food in you. You look like absolute hell."

"Jerk," Jean chuckled as Marco took his hand. Feeling a warmth spread through his chest as he watched the brunette lead him inside, the blonde smiled.

In that moment, a realization dawned upon him. But Jean didn't say a word. Instead, he kept it locked in his heart for a better time.

'I love you Marco...'

.....22 days until fire season.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While Marco may live in Southern California, he was born and partially raised in Washington State. As a self-declared "mountain hipster," his taste in music varies but leans predominantly toward indie and alternative because nothing helps a tree-hugger unwind like smooth vocals and acoustic guitars. So here is Marco's guilty pleasure music playlist.
> 
>  
> 
> *Breathe Easy List*
> 
> -"Full Moon" by The Black Ghosts  
> -"Let's Get Lost" by Beck feat. Bat For Lashes  
> -"Hearing Damage" by Thom Yorke  
> -"Slow Life" by Grizzly Bear  
> -"Satellite Heart" by Anya Marina  
> -"The Trapeze Swinger" by Iron & Wine  
> -"Such Great Heights" by Iron & Wine  
> -"Faded From The Winter" by Iron & Wine  
> -"Each Coming Night" by Iron & Wine  
> -"Caught A Long Wind" by Feist  
> -"The Circle Married The Line" by Feist  
> -"Bittersweet Melodies" by Feist  
> -"Train Song" by Benjamin Gibbard and Feist  
> -"Pine Moon" by Feist  
> -"Service Bell" by Feist feat. Grizzly Bear  
> -"Turn The Dirt Over" by Seawolf  
> -"You're A Wolf" by Seawolf  
> -"Rose Captain" by Seawolf  
> -"Middle Distance Runner" by Seawolf  
> -"The Cold, The Dark, & The Silence" by Seawolf  
> -"Neutral Ground" by Seawolf  
> -"A White Demon Love Song" by The Killers  
> -"Let Me Start Over" by Scott Oatley  
> -"Strange & Beautiful (I'll Put A Spell On You" by Aqualung  
> -"Sick In The Head" by The Lumineers  
> -"Blame It On The Tetons" by Modest Mouse  
> -"Title And Registration" by Death Cab For Cutie  
> -"Stable Song" by Death Cab For Cutie  
> -"The Blower's Daughter" by Damien Rice


	3. Rapture Pt. I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a long week, it's date night and both Eren and Jean have their own way of coming down.
> 
>  
> 
> AUTHOR'S NOTE: So this is my third time typing this chapter from scratch because my computer has been giving me trouble for the past two weeks, hence why this update has taken such a long time to produce. I'm not really sure how this installment is going to read because little things have changed with each redo so we'll see.

"Is that seriously the best you can do?" Marlo griped looking at his stopwatch. "I've seen old men in the geriatrics ward at your sister’s hospital move faster than your sorry ass."

Struggling for air, Marco held himself up with both hands planted firmly on his knees. "Is that...really necessary? I've ran up and down this fucking track thirty times already!"

"And you're still slower than last years time."

"Seriously, I'm about to break your nose."

"Not in that kind of shape you ain't," the captain said, his Texan twang ringing clear. "Now get back to the end of the straight way." Pivoting, Marlo searched for the closest team member that looked like they had cooled off from their own exercises. "Arcadi," he shouted at the blonde firefighter laughing up a storm with Mikasa at Connie's expense. "Come here and motivate Bott's miserable ass. He seems to think that Mother Nature decided to take the season off since he doesn't feel like running laps."

"Gladly sir," she grinned while hopping off the railing by the bleachers and sauntering over. "You ready for this sweet cheeks because I am totally kicking your ass today."

"My legs are longer shortstop," Marco teased as they walked toward the starting line.

"I prefer ankle biter. Now assume the position babe," Kat chuckled as she slapped his backside while walking around him to her starting block. "If I win, you have to make dinner tonight and give me a backrub."

"Fine. But if I win you do laundry and you, wait no, you'd like giving me a leg massage."

"Too late, you already said it."

"That doesn't count."

"And go!" Marlo shouted.

"Yes it does!" the blonde said as she shot off at an ungodly speed. "Better keep up buttercup!"

Bolting down the track, Marco closed in on Kat but because she was closer to the ground and had longer legs for her height, it was hard to catch up. Not only was she aerodynamic but she was all muscle in the legs and had a push-off time unlike anyone else on the team. Even Mikasa had a small three second lag on Kat's sprint. Before he knew it, they were turning on to the last straight-way with the blonde five feet ahead. There was no way he was going to catch up with her so, instead of taking the loss gracefully, Marco flung himself onto his friend as they crossed the finish line. 

Effectively tackling Kat to the ground in a playful headlock, he counted down as a warning so that she would give up and forfeit whatever she won. But the blonde was clever and reached around, jabbing him in his side. Reacting to block, Marco opened himself up enough for her to push away from the ground, grab him by the neck and shoulders, and throw him over like a bale of hay. Beaming down triumphantly, she heaved in a ragged breath then sighed while cocking her head to the side.

"So," Kat said, her smoky blue eyes alight with mischief. "I do believe I won which makes you my man servant for the day. Well, more like my boy toy."

"God damn."

"Oh, praying won't get you out of this. And you're going to be topless during all of it."

"Aren't you seeing someone?" Marco frowned from his spot on the ground. "Won't she get pissy about you bossing around your roommate?"

"Nah, I'm sure she'd be fine with it. Hell, she may even want to watch. Actually, could I--"

"Nope," the brunette grunted, snapping up and shaking the grass from his hair. "I draw the line at spectators. And I refuse to be topless."

"Fine, what about in a fishnet tank top."

"That's just as bad!"

From the stands, Mikasa and Connie watched wearing the same look of mild annoyance. Marco and Kat were always a little weird but it was just how they were. This wasn't even the strangest conversation they had had; not by a long shot. But it never failed to amaze them the things she would say or do or how he tolerated it with minimal effort. Snorting a single laugh as the blonde jumped and hung off of the brunette like a spider monkey before he grabbed her legs to support the rest of her weight, Mikasa shook her head.

"They really are strange," the woman said.

Nodding, Connie took a drink from his water bottle. "I always thought that they were secretly banging because they're so close but then Kat fell off her chair laughing when I asked. Even after everything she puts him through, she said 'I wouldn't bang him even if you paid me,' It's so confusing."

"Tell me about it," Mikasa murmured while tilting her head to the side as she continued watching the stooge's from across the field. "I wonder what Jean see's in him."

"Other than the fact that he's totally Jean's type? I mean look at him. Hell, if I were single and drunk enough, I'd put the moves on him."

"Thanks for the visual Con," the dark-haired woman spoke, now pushing away from the railing. "I'll be leaving now. If Marlo asks, I'm in the weight room hiding from you idiots."

"Right," Connie nodded without thinking then snapped his head around when he caught the last part. "Hey, don't walk off after saying that! Come back and say it to my face Mika!"

"I already did genius."

"Springer!" Marlo bellowed from the other side of the field. "Your break is up. Get back on the field and start doing lunges or I'll have you running up and down the bleachers."

"Yes sir!"

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jean felt as if he had just ran a marathon. That is if a marathon included doing rectal exams, having to change scrubs twice because two different patients couldn't stop themselves from vomiting all over his shirt, and getting sprayed with stomach bile during surgery. It was like Fear Factor was being filmed and someone had signed him up as tribute. Ripping the surgical cap off his head, the frustrated intern chucked it into the bin in the doctors lounge.

Collapsing on the couch under the row of windows overlooking the courtyard, he groaned. It had been six days since the triage and five days since he had last seen Marco and it beginning to wear on him. It was startling to think of how reliant he had become on the other mans' energy and optimism. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he looked at the lock screen while wearing a tiny smirk. The wallpaper was a picture the couple had taken while hiking through Malibu Creek. They had both climbed to the top of the giant boulder that stood in the middle of the lake and, before Marco ran them both off the edge, took a photo to remember the moment. Both of them were smiling from ear to ear; the brunette with his nose scrunching up sweetly which made his freckles look even more precious while Jean rested his head on the other mans' shoulder.

It was a perfect happy moment that seemed so far and yet so near in his memory. But Ymir's medical ban for Marco had ended at the start of the week and, since then, they had not seen each other. Not even in passing did they cross paths. For the last five days, Jean had to make due with talking on the phone and texting. He also spent every night that week in his bed in his home. But despite it being just as comfortable as sleeping on a cloud would be, the intern couldn't fall asleep. Every night was a battle for rest and every night he lost, waking up multiple times while falling back asleep took longer and longer. 

This was all Marco's fault, Jean knew it was. Before they started dating, he could sleep just fine. Before they started dating, he woke up in the morning with more than enough energy to last him the day. Before Jean and Marco started dating, he could concentrate on what he was doing instead of counting down the hours until lunch so that he could finally answer the texts the brunette had sent him throughout the day. Before that damn firefighter came into his life, Jean was fine. He could keep his shit together and didn't mind working overtime at the hospital or picking up shifts. But now the playing field had changed.

Now, Jean found himself missing Marco; thinking about him, worrying about him, daydreaming about his smile and sweet laughter. It was even making him sick how much he obsessed over the guy but he couldn't stop himself. Not after he realized that he had, without even trying or thinking about it, fallen hopelessly and recklessly in love with Marco. But what scared Jean even more was the fact that he was actually in love with someone. That had never happened before; ever. 

True, he had fuck buddies to blow off steam in college and had a few boyfriends during high school but they never lasted long. He was too focused to find the time to care. It was always school first. Sports first. Family and friends first. Then college and finding an intern program first. He had never made the time for a significant other because they were just not significant enough. It sounded heartless but it's how he got through one of the most cutthroat programs in the country at one of the nations' top med schools.

However, now it seemed like karma had caught up with him and had one hell of a bone to pick with him. Now, Jean was the one waiting for Marco to reply to his texts. Now it was Jean hoping that they could meet up even if it was just to talk. This was the guy who hated phone conversations longer than ten minutes because he had too much work to do. It was ironic how polar the reversal had been. Thankfully, Marco wasn't an asshole like Jean was back during his undergrad and graduate years. The brunette always got back to him and always had something smart and witty to say when he needed a laugh. Maybe that's why he fell for him.

Yes, Marco was gorgeous and even that fell short of properly describing him; but words in general didn't do the man justice. However, there was something else to him that just seemed to click. He was humble, funny, bashful at times, and had the most adorable face when he slept. He could cook, played five different sports, spoke three languages whereas the intern could only manage one, and he had a heart the size of Texas. 

Marco was everything Jean wasn't which was probably why he craved him like a tree needing water during a drought. He was the rain that made everything seem new and exciting. 

Instead of painting everything with the same shade of pessimism, the brunette gave life back its' color and youthful zeal. It was like looking through a kaleidoscope in which each turn was a new day brought to life by his vibrancy and never-ending supply of enthusiasm. Jean loved that part of him. He loved every part of Marco but that sense of wonder and optimism was really what caught him by the heartstrings and refused to let go. 

Before they met, life was monotonous. Now it was bursting at the seams with new experiences; this whole being human business wasn't as bad as Jean had previously thought it to be. So, giving in to his addiction, the intern reached out with an offer and hoped that the man on the other end would respond quickly. If there was one downside to being this lovesick, it was waiting for the seconds--that really felt like minutes--to pass until the person called or texted back.

JEAN: Hey, so I was wondering if you wanted to hangout tonight. I'm off after 5:30 so I was thinking we could do something. Or, if you're tired from doing drills, we could rain check for another time. It's all up to you.

The blonde wanted to slam his head into the nearest wall when he reread his text after he had already sent the message. It was obvious that he was nervous because he had started rambling and, before he knew it, was suggesting that it'd be okay if they didn't meet up that night. He sounded like an anxious school girl; probably because that was exactly what he felt like. Groaning, Jean pressed the phone against his face while keeling over onto his side as he laid down on the padded bench in the lounge. 'Text back damn it,' he silently willed the other man as he waited for a reply.

MARCO: LoL. I was actually just about to call and ask if you were free tonight. I have this place I was hoping to take you too but I wasn't sure if you were on-call or not.

JEAN: No, I was on-call last night so I'm free. Where are we going?

MARCO: That's my secret for you to find out when we get there. Don't worry, it's nothing fancy. Just fun because this week has been absolute hell.

JEAN: Did you want to talk about it? I've got another thirty minutes of my break left. You could call if you want.

Now he was being too open about his eagerness to talk to him. No matter what Jean did, he couldn't find a balance between cold indifference or freaking the fuck out and overdoing everything. Why did falling for someone have to turn him into such a pansy? Why couldn't he just act like he normally did, before all of these messy feelings got a hold of him? Too ashamed to stop himself from face-palming, Jean prayed that he hadn't come across as crazy or clingy.

MARCO: I wish I could because I am seriously missing you right now but Marlo will go Genghis Khan on me if I don't get back to doing push ups.

JEAN: How many you got left?

MARCO: About 150 and he's going easy on me. Haha. Wish me luck babe.

The intern felt his heart leap out of his chest and into his throat. 'Babe?' Jean choked while staring at the screen. A ridiculous smile snuck across his face accompanied by a little laugh. He knew he was blushing and probably looked like an idiot but Marco had just called him "babe." It was as if someone had just handed him the moon.

JEAN: Good luck. Don't pull anything, 'kay.

MARCO: I'll do my best. Have a good day at work. I'll text you later when I'm heading over to your place.

Jean didn't want the conversation to end; he wasn't ready to let go of that light that Marco managed to exude even through his texts. This man had to possess some kind of magic because everything he did and said had the intern giddy. It was likely a hilarious sight to see but it didn't matter. He was crazy for the guy.

Rolling onto his back, the young man closed his eyes and smiled with a breathy laugh. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt this excited; this awake both mentally and emotionally. It were as though he had been in hibernation and was only now starting to wake up after a twelve year long nap. As the sun poured down on him, Jean felt the joy he was feeling spread, infecting each and every part of him until there was not a single left but this happiness. With a long sigh, he watched a large white cloud pass overhead; the smile still present on his face. 'Damn, I love him.'

Just as his happiness began to peak, Jean's pager went off. Bolting upright, he booked it to the fifth floor where one of his patients was coding. Yet even as he ran up the stairs, the exhaustion that would normally bog him down wasn't there. He still felt a light as air; as if his conversation with Marco was a cure-all medicine for heavy hearts and tired souls. Meeting with the nurses that had already brought the crash cart, Jean took a deep breath as Michelle prepped the defibrillator pads in his hands, counted to three, and then pressed them to the patients chest and shouted "clear!"

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

Eren watched from his seat at the dining room table as his best friend zipped around the house like a madman looking for his favorite old flannel. He didn't even wear the thing anymore; well, not appropriately at least. He just tied it around his hips like a grunge enthusiast hanging on to the glory days when Kurt Cobain was still intact and very much alive. Sipping at his chilled can of Sapporo, the brunette remained quiet; laughing a little when Jean came stomping into the living room to grab his shoes with his toothbrush hanging from his mouth. The guy was such a wreck, it was almost adorable.

Part of the brunette wondered if he were like that when he first started dating Levi. The anxiety, the butterflies right before a date, that excitement that was so intense it almost made you sick... It had been almost seven months since his first date with the surgeon and they had gotten so comfortable with each other that they were basically a domesticated pair now. Remembering what it was like at the beginning was a stretch.

Eren smiled lazily as Levi came up from behind and kissed him on the cheek while setting down a plate of carbonara. Trailing from his ear and down his throat, the dark-haired man settled in the crook of lover's neck; nuzzling against the soft warm tan skin with a long deep breath. Tilting his head up, he watched the spectacle that his partner seemed to be taking great interest in. Quietly, with his arms folded around Eren's shoulders, Levi observed Jean running about like a chicken with its' head cut off.

"What's got his goat?" the older man murmured in his lover's ear.

"He's got a date tonight and he isn't ready yet."

"And when is Marco supposed to be here?"

"Five minutes," Eren chuckled as the sound of Jean falling over while tugging on his high tops struck a chord. "The guy is an absolute mess. I told him he looked fine but he keeps worrying about every little thing."

"You were just like him when we first started dating," Levi said while taking a seat at the table; the one closest to the brunette, naturally. "I once sat in the car for an hour waiting for you to shower and figure out what you were going to wear."

"Really?" the young man asked. When his partner nodded as he chewed on a mouthful of pasta, he shrugged with a small 'huh.' "I don't think I remember any of that. I remember being nervous because I thought I'd bore you or something but I don't remember that part."

"That's because I never brought it up. Here," Levi mused before offering the chunk of pancetta on his fork to Eren. When the young man ate the piece of Italian bacon, he smiled lightly. "It was endearing the way you wanted to look your best even if we were just going to my place to order Chinese food and watch a movie."

"Aww, what a gentleman."

"I'm always a gentleman."

"Most of the time. You have your moments when you're a complete ass," Eren teased, feeding the dark-haired man piece of grilled chicken. "But you're my jerk so it's okay."

"Yeah, and you're a shitty brat that can't take directions."

"Not always."

Catching the devious glint in the kids' bright green eyes, Levi chuckled low and deep. "You're right. You do, on occasion, know when to take orders."

Just as the couple leaned in for a kiss, the doorbell sounded. Groaning, Eren leaned back and dragged himself from the table. He hadn't had a night alone with Levi since Sunday and, as much as he loved Jean and would do anything for him, he wanted him gone. The brunette was pent up and was dead set on getting laid that evening so the sooner his roommate left, the sooner he could relax and enjoy himself and the playground that was Levi.

Opening the door, he greeted Marco with a teasing wolf whistle. "Damn Bott, looking good. I wouldn't have guessed that you spent the entire afternoon getting your ass handed to you."

"Hey Eren. Polite as ever I see," the older brunette smirked. He then jerked his chin in acknowledgement to Levi, who had walked over and slipped his arm around the young mans' waist. "Hey L. How have things been? Ymir says you've been camping out in the on-call room lately because you've been booked all week."

"I've done over seventeen surgeries this week and I've only been home twice. Tomorrow I have an eleven hour neuroendoscopy with Erwin so it's been a pretty shitty week."

"Sounds like you've been put through the ringer," Marco laughed. "How's Ymir? I haven't gotten to see her much since Monday but she told me Krista came home."

"Ymir's doing pretty fine, actually. I think Krista coming home has her firing on all cylinders again. The triage took a lot out of her from what I could tell."

At this, the older brunette's expression shifted the slightest bit; enough that Levi was the only one to catch the change. "Yeah, Jean didn't seem right for a while after it either."

Before anyone could say another word, Jean entered the room; tugging on his old worn in leather moto jacket. Paired with the black jacket was a fresh white scoop neck t-shirt, his favorite pair of Lucky Brand dark wash slim jeans, and black Chuck Taylor high tops with the flannel tied around his hips. Glancing between the three men for a split second, the ashen blonde gave Marco a quick kiss then said goodbye to his friend and Levi. Before he could leave though, Eren gave a sharp whistle behind him. Spinning on his heels, Jean caught the house keys he had forgotten on the entryway hook.

Waving goodbye, Eren closed the front door and locked it before looping his arms around Levi's neck. Diving into a long heated kiss, the brunette twisted his fingers in the silky black hair he had been dying to touch all week. Just as eager but caring little for grace or poise, Levi pushed Eren up against the wall; forcing one of his legs to hook around his waist. It had been too long since he had gotten to hold this man's body close, taste the sweat that rolled down his warm honeyed skin, and drown in the moans that left his lips when he became overly intoxicated by their lovemaking.

"We should put the food in the oven so it doesn't get cold," the brunette struggled to say as the older man bit and sucked a path from his neck to his ear.

"Fuck that," Levi growled as he pressed into the young mans' lower half with his hardening member while playfully nipping at his earlobe. "I've been thinking about you none stop for the last five days so I'll be damned if I'm about to let go of you to put up a few plates of food. I'm going to fuck you mercilessly until you're hoarse from screaming my name."

"Oh thank God," Eren groaned in relief as Levi's erect clothed cock pressed against his. "I want you so bad baby." Pulling the other man into a ravenous embrace, the brunette dragged his short nails down his partner's shoulders and back and bit his bottom lip as they parted for air. "Take me to bed Levi."

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taking the next exit, they exited the highway onto Ocean Ave. and the coastline gradually gave way to glittering urban skylines as Marco headed inland toward Los Angeles. As the brunette stepped on the clutch and down changed, the engine of the polished dark gray Range Rover heaved as it shifted into fifth gear--adding a small jolt of speed to the otherwise smooth ride. Watching the sky darken into a deeper shade of velvety blue, Jean let out a long relaxed sigh as he let his head rest against the window. It was strange how different everything looked in the evening dim even though Jean had driven down that same stretch of road a million times before on his way to work.

Without thinking about it, the young man smiled as he caught sight of the brunette singing along to the music in the reflection of the passenger window. He was so happy to have Marco back. It had been a long stifling work week with more frustrations than victories. He had been worn down to the bones more than once and hadn't gotten enough time to recover in between the hits. But now that silver dream that came into being whenever Marco was near was back. And, as the brunette casually wove their hands together on top of Jeans' leg, the blonde gladly let the rest of the world fall away because he wanted nothing more than to escape in the sweet surrender of that perfect moment.

"So where exactly are we going?" Jean beamed softly as he lifted his hand to comb through the other mans' silky chocolate brown hair. "Don't tell me you're taking me clubbing."

"Close but no cigar," Marco laughed as he relished the feeling of those long slender fingers gently raking across his scalp and brushing over his ear. "A friend of mine is playing at the Playroom at the new Standard hotel by the pier. It's nothing fancy; just good music and a mellow crowd."

"Kind of figures you would have connections with the DJ scene."

"Mmm," the brunette hummed as Jean's hand slid to stroke the nape of his neck. "I thought it'd be relaxing and we can just hangout in the booth hidden away by the MC stand. Usually only the dj's get to chill in there but since I know everyone playing tonight, we get special access."

"That does sound pretty amazing." Pausing to admire Marco's profile, Jean felt a sudden urge to say the words that had been weighing on his heart for a week. Instead he tugged the mans' earlobe and smiled. "I'm glad you were free tonight."

"Same. I know it's only been a couple days but I missed you like crazy."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Marco said softly as some indecipherable thought flickered through his eyes. "Every morning I've been waking up at the crack of dawn to do drills with Marlo before heading into our pre-season routine. On top of that, I have to reconnect with my jump crew since they're separate from my wildlands station so it's just been a mess for these past five days."

"Shit, that sounds like hell. How are you even awake?"

"I honestly don't know. I was planning on passing out when I got home tonight but then you messaged me and I knew that I needed to see you. Sorry if I'm being too forward but I really wanted to see you tonight; even if we just went driving and sat on the beach doing nothing."

"You're not being too forward. I'm the one that texted you first remember?" Jean laughed just to keep his heart from doing back-flips in his chest. "I missed you too; a lot actually. I've been so swamped with work that I stayed over at the hospital and just slept in the on-call room."

"Ymir told me you've been clocking extra hours but I didn't know you stayed over. Why'd you do that?"

Remaining quiet for a moment, the blonde fidgeted with the short hairs near the nape of Marco's neck. "I had a patient that needed constant care and I was too worried that something may happen so I just stuck around."

"That's thoughtful of you."

"Yeah but what does it matter? He died during surgery yesterday when we took him off of bypass," the intern said, now still and somber. "He was only nineteen. How does a heart become so damaged that it needs bypass surgery that early on?"

Taking his hand off the gear change, Marco took Jean's hand that was tangled in his hair and brought it to his lips; kissing his knuckles and thumb. "I'm sorry babe. I know it sounds like a cop out but you did all you could. Some people just...sometimes our bodies don't want to cooperate with our hearts or our heads. But trust me when I say I know where you're coming from."

Jean could feel the weight behind the mans' words as their hands knitted together. He felt the callouses on his fingers skim over the top of his that were so much paler, they were snowy in comparison. He could feel the grip tighten as the words were spoken and the heat in his tanned skin give way to sweat. Jean knew from a single glance that Marco had seen things; things the intern could probably never fathom or would even want to attempt imagining. 

Being a firefighter wasn't just about putting out a blaze. It also meant being there for the aftermath and retrieving the fallen and wounded. And, despite being relatively young in comparison to the more tenured firefighters, Marco was a member with wildlands, the smokejumpers, and acted as a temp for the IHC so he had likely seen enough to make any normal citizens' skin crawl.

Turing onto Wilshire Boulevard and 4th Street, Marco pulled up to The Standard and killed the engine. The cabin of the car remained silent as he exited and walked around to open the passenger door. But instead of leaving, Jean pulled Marco into him for a long comforting kiss. It was something the both of them needed more than they knew.

Combing his hands through the brunette's gorgeous mane of hair, Jean held on tighter as if a storm were coming and this man were the only thing that could keep him safe. Parting his lips, the ashen blonde gently bite his partners' lip; urging him to open his mouth. Complying without a second thought, Marco deepened the embrace while wrapping an arm around Jean's waist.

Now in total control of their movements, the brunette opened the back passenger door after kicking the main cabin door close. Catching on, Jean slid into the backseat while forcefully dragging Marco by the collar of his light blue button-down until the man was on top of him. When the door clicked shut, they melted back into the embrace, losing all reason and self-control. Both of them had survived a hideous week and needed the reassurance that everything would be okay; that somehow, despite everything else falling to pieces, they still had this perfect little world that revolved solely around them.

Like the rain, Marco's kisses on Jean's lips and his strong hands on his hips washed away the aches and pain that had grown over time. The fingertips grazing up his spine--setting his skin on fire with their touch--erased any and all tension while the weight of his firm body pressing against his kept him rooted in the moment. Wrapping his arms around the mans' neck, Jean kissed him for all he was worth. Their tongues clashed and the blonde didn't even try to stop the moans that rolled out from his throat. He had missed this so much that he wasn't even aware of it until that moment.

"God, I've missed you," Jean breathed as the man bit and kissed a trail from the blonde's ear to his collarbone. Kissing the top of his head, he nuzzled the soft dark strands of hair that smelled of cedar and citrus. "I've missed you so much, it was killing me."

"Me too," Marco panted against the young mans' neck; nipping at the damp skin to earn a small whimper. "I missed your voice, your body heat, that little smirk you get when you're trying to pretend you aren't amused by my shitty jokes. Fuck, I feel like I'm going crazy. I can't stop myself from wanting you though."

"Then don't," the blonde choked as the heavy words being spoken by the other hit home. "Don't stop missing me. Don't stop thinking about me because I can't stop thinking about you. Make me into the person you fall back on Marco because I want to be there for every moment. When you're lonely or in a shit mood; I want to be there for you."

Looking up from the nest he had made hidden in the crook of Jeans' neck, Marco kissed the young man more deeply and passionately than they had ventured before. There was something substantial and earth shattering about that embrace that hadn't been present in their previous kisses. It was a promise; an understanding that this was no longer a casual thing between them. In the short amount of time they had spent together, both had fallen for the other without even realizing it and neither of them knew until that very moment that it was mutual.

"You already are," Marco said with a ragged voice. Propped up by the elbows, his faintly trembling hands ran through Jeans' feathery ashen blonde hair as a small smile came to his lips. "You're already in my heart Jean."

"Marco...?"

Leaning in, Marco kissed the hollow of his partners' neck before taking in a gentle breath--catching Jean's crisp clean scent on the exhale. "I love you," he whispered.

"Wait, what?" Jean blinked, unsure of what he just heard. "What did you say?"

"It's nothing."

Placing a feather light peck on his forehead, the brunette parted from the blonde while wearing a small smile. He would tell him again later if it felt right again but he wasn't ready to do this; at least not right before heading into a crowded lounge where they'd be forced to be social. It was by accident that his heart overpowered his self-control and let the words leak out. Marco had wanted to hold on a little longer until he was sure Jean felt the same way but he got swept up in the moment and made a fool of himself.

Yeah, Jean wanted more than a casual fling and maybe, one day, he'd love him just as much as Marco loved him. But today wasn't the day. It was too soon and Jean was the kind of man that took his time and analyzed every possible outcome before making a decision. That's just the kind of guy he was and two weeks was too soon for someone like that to fall in love. Peeling away from the blonde, Marco exited the car and straightened out his clothes. Then, with a warm inviting smile, he extended a hand to Jean.

"Let's head in," he said with a hint of adoration in his tone. "They're expecting us."

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The first thing Jean noticed when he entered the Playroom lounge was how this wasn't just a "casual get together." Inside the massive room, which could only be accessed through a secret entrance in the hotel's kitchen, was a sea of bodies grooving to the music. Their tangled sweaty limbs that swayed in broken unison were highlighted by the neon pink, red, and purple signs on the brick walls that read "Play with me," Mhmmm," "Dare me," and "Come hither baby." Above spun a disco ball that bounced back the multicolored light; scattering it through the room until it reached the quilted leather booths lining the walls and the grand oak bar in the back.

Navigating through the waves of people dancing to the booming bass heavy "Close To Me" by Benny Benassi, it didn't take long until the second interesting point of the evening presented itself. As Marco led the way, it became abundantly clear that he was more than just acquainted with most of those in attendance. 'Is he a firefighter or a celebrity?' Jean wondered in disbelief as both men and women broke away from their friends just to greet him. From bro-hugs and pats on the back from the guys to kisses on the cheek or a pinch on the chin from the ladies, everyone seemed to know who Jeans' date was and liked him fairly well.

"Marco Fucking Bott!" shouted an enthusiastic voice from the crowd to their left. "You're here!"

Spinning quick to catch who was calling, Jean saw a petite Korean woman emerge from the sea of people. Adorned in a long sleeved white jumper with a plunging neckline down past her belly button, spiked Lita Jeffrey Campbell boots, and massive jeweled knuckle rings, the woman was the picture perfect vision of mod fashion. Her short asymmetrical black hair no longer than a bowl cut hung around her pixie face like a lopsided black curtain that was so silky in texture that it glowed in the dim light. She was impressive even if she was only five foot three at the absolute most.

Collecting Marco into a tight hug, she squeezed him tight with an affection similar to a sisters'. Leaning back a bit, she reached up a squished his face between her long delicate fingers; pinching his cheeks like the token annoying aunt at a family reunion. It was sweet in an odd and unfamiliar way.

"I was wondering when you were going to show that adorable face of yours. Where have you been for the last three months?" the woman asked. "You know how lonely I get when I spin without you around."

"I was getting all my travel time in before the season starts," Marco chuckled as he took hold of her wrists and swayed her back and forth. "Have you already done your set?"

"No, Myra's spinning right now and Earry's next with me going last." Pausing, she narrowed her feline gaze in on Jean when a sly smile rolled across her cheeks. "Is this him?"

"Yeah," the brunette said as he released her hands and placed one of his own on the small of the blonde man's back. "Christine, this is my boyfriend Jean. Jean this is my friend, Christine. She's one of the MC's playing tonight."

"Nice to meet you," Jean smiled, forcing the butterflies in his stomach to calm down as his partners' thumb rubbed a circle into the base of his spine.

"Likewise. Fuck, you're pretty smoking. If only I had a dick I'd jump your bones."

"How much have you had to drink Chris?" Marco smirked as he pulled Jean closer to him so that her naturally grabby hands couldn't find what they were looking for.

"Nowhere near enough for you to start playing mommy dearest. Speaking of which, what are you having tonight? I'm heading to the bar to put in the second order for the table. Is the usual fine or did you want to change it up?"

"I'm driving tonight so I can't have too much. Gotta stay neat today."

"Boo, you're a horrible human being." Turning to the blonde, Christine pushed her hands together as if she were praying yet the devious look on her face said otherwise. "What about you Jean? You'll have a couple of drinks with me right?"

"I haven't really eaten today so I--"

"I'm ordering food too so it's not a problem. Please Jean? Just a couple of drinks?"

Looking between her and Marco, he caved. "Sure, I guess."

"Awesome. What's your poison honey?"

"Bourbon and whiskey."

"Oh, definitely my kind of man."

"Cool it Chris," the brunette snorted a laugh but look in his eyes was enough to stop her in her tracks.

"Is Mr. Hotshot cock tease Bott getting jealous?" she cackled with a playful slap on Marco's arm. "I get it. I'll leave you two be. Earry's hanging out in the alcove with Roman and Quinn. Go relax and eye fuck each other and I'll put in the order."

As she turned to leave, Jean felt Marco extend his arm across his back to bring him in even closer. Pivoting so he could speak into his ear, the blonde laughed, "She's different."

"I seem to be surrounded by the 'different' kind of women."

"Clearly."

"Come on, let's sit down."

After saying hello to a few more people, Marco and Jean finally arrived at the booth hidden in an alcove to the left of the DJ stand. Currently in command of the soundboard was the tall and rebellious beauty, Myra. Towering above most others, the six foot woman clad in white bell bottoms, a cream knitted crop-top, and flowing red silk kimono shrug with white and pink flowers, the woman was breathtaking; even Jean was taken aback by how lovely she was. Bobbing along to "Niliria" by G-Dragon and Missy Elliott, the ebony goddess flicked the long tendrils of her afro out her face as she leaned in to set up the next song. When she caught sight of Marco out of the corner of her eye, her expression lit up.

"No way, you made it!" Myra beamed as Marco stepped onto the stand and came around the soundboard to give her a hug. "You're looking good."

"You too," the brunette smiled as she gave him a sweet peck on the cheek. "Just talked to Chris. She's pretty far gone."

"I told her to pace herself but you know how she is. Is that cutie with you Jean?"

Nodding, Marco turned and motioned for the younger man to come over for a sec. "Jean, this is Myra Jensen."

"Nice to meet you."

"You too. Marco's told me a bit about you. Maybe when I'm wrapped with my set we could chat. I'd love to get to know you."

"I'd like that," Jean smirked. "By the way, you are absolutely gorgeous."

"Aw, thank you baby." Myra blushed. She couldn't help but laugh a little when she saw Marco quirk a brow. He must be feeling particularly possessive that night, not that she could blame him. "You two go relax now. I'll catch you on the flipside when I'm done."

"'Kay," Marco lovingly pinched her nose before hopping down. "Talk to you in a bit Myra."

Just as he left the DJ stand, the brunette was called to yet again. Except this time, it was a smooth bellowing voice of a man sitting no less than ten feet away from them in the private booth set aside for MC's and their guests. Pivoting to catch who was hollering now, Marco's grin grew as a colossal tank of a man in a crisp fitted white t-shirt, darkwash overalls, and pristine Timberland boots rose from the leather seat he was in so that they could clap hands before leaning in for a hug. 

The man was definitely eccentric, what with his circle violet hued sunglasses and the mustard silk square scarf with red polka dots tied around his neck. Contrasting his dark skin was a row of perfectly white teeth that looked as if they had never been used; like he was just birthed into adulthood with a flawless smile. But despite his strange fashion sense and intimidating height and size, the man was kind; the warmth of his words making it to the glittering brown depths of his eyes.

"I didn't think you'd show," the man grinned as his smooth voice rolled along with its own rhythm. "I saw Ymir with Krista a couple days ago and she told me Marlo's working you hard."

"Yeah, I had a small accident while I was traveling with Connie during off-season so he's trying to get me back up to speed."

"Not pushing you too much though right?"

"Nah, I'm fine. Oh, Earry, this is Jean," Marco smiled when he turned and took the blonde's hand in his. "Jean, this is Earry Hauhl. He's an old friend of mine from my college years."

"Good to meet you Jean."

"You too," the intern said, shaking his strong hand. Sitting down in the booth next to Marco, Jean continued. "So you guys went to school together? What did you study?"

"Music production and contemporary composition," Earry answered as he leaned back; his glass of straight Hennessy swirling in his palm. "We lived in the same apartment building."

"Same floor and two doors down from each other yet it took us half a year to meet," the brunette laughed as he poured himself a glass of the cognac then clinked the rim with Earry's drink. "God, I hated that building. Nothing ever worked and we had to carry everything up six flights of stairs every fucking day."

"I remember that! Shit, and remember that time when the waterline broke and everyone on the third, second, and first floors had to relocate until they fixed it?"

"That was the only time I was grateful that my room was on the sixth floor."

"Yeah, well now you have that fancy ass house in Flintridge. Have you seen his place?" Earry turned to Jean with a small chuckle in his tone. "This kid went from skipping meals to save for rent to owning some fucking ranch."

"Yeah, his place is nice and all but I've seen bigger," Jean smirked as he took a sip from the drink Marco had just handed him. "Then again, size isn't everything."

Leaning back with an enthusiastically drawn out 'oh,' Earry jabbed his elbow into the brunette's arm. "Your boys' got game Bott."

Giving a short laugh, Marco bit his bottom lip as he eyed the blonde. "Yes he most certainly does."

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

As the night progressed, Jean found himself unwinding an relaxing more than he thought he would. With the drinks flowing like water and the laughter an endless current running through each new conversation, the intern had forgotten entirely about the shitty week he had endured. Myra had wrapped soon after the men had arrived so as Earry took his girlfriends' place, the woman took the chance to pick Jeans' brain. She was curious about how the blonde could have Marco so rattled up that he'd take every opportunity to sneak a peck on the cheek or, when the mood was right, a longer more deep kiss.

While Christine distracted the brunette with pictures from her trip to Shanghai and Hong Kong, Myra scooted closer to Jean. He was nursing his fourth drink of the evening but still looked to have his wits about him. Yet he was open enough that he had begun to speak about himself in a bit more depth than before. Taking advantage of the brief window, she carefully launched her questions.

"So you're a surgical intern. That seems pretty cool," Myra smiled sweetly; her hair bouncing as she tilted her head to the side. "Why'd you choose medicine? Are your parents doctors?"

Fighting back the sudden sting the word 'parents' caused, Jean forced his mind to work. "My mother is. She's the head of pediatrics and chief of surgery at Mount Sinai hospital in New York. It's funny though since almost everyone on her side of the family was with the fire department at some point. Well, the men at least."

"That's pretty cool. Is your dad a firefighter too? Kinda funny that you come from a family of them only to end up with one."

"Yeah, it is pretty ironic," he said with a sad lilt to his smile. "My dad was a hotshot too but umm, he uh, died a while back."

"I'm so sorry. I had no idea," Myra said softly; placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"It's fine. It was a long time ago so you don't need to apologize."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, don't worry about it." Feeling his throat begin to tighten, Jean set down his glass and forced the best smile he could. "Hey, I'm going to grab a smoke. If Marco asks, I'm outside getting some air."

"'Kay."

Myra couldn't help but feel guilty as Jean slinked through the crowd and disappeared out the doors leading to the pool and sun deck. She didn't mean to strike a cord; she only meant to get to know him better. Cursing under her breath, the woman knew of only one way to fix this problem. Well, more like only one person who could fix this little hiccup. Tapping Marco on the shoulder, she watched as he turned expecting to see Jean only to see that the man was missing in action.

Before Marco could ask, Myra came clean. "He's outside having a smoke. I think I may have said something that hit home."

"What did you say?" the brunette asked looking even more confused. 'Jean doesn't smoke,' he thought to himself.

"I asked about his parents and if either of them were a doctor. I didn't know it was a sore topic."

"Damn it," Marco sighed under his breath. Excusing himself from his conversation with Christine, the man rose to his feet. "It's alright, don't worry about it. I'll go check on him and see if he's okay."

"Really?"

"Yeah, no worries. I'll be back in a bit. Keep an eye on Chris will ya'?"

"Uh huh. Tell Jean I'm sorry will ya'?"

"Gotcha," Marco smiled as he left.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------

The air was nice a cool outside by the pool. With his back turned to the glowing expanse of crystalline water and lounge chairs, Jean pushed against the handrail that corralled the third floor sundeck as an on shore breeze blew in from the ocean that was no more than four blocks away. It was a pleasant departure from the hot stuffy air inside the Playroom. 

Letting his head droop and his shoulders hunch forward, the young man tried to subdue the memories of his fathers' death that were trying to claw their way out of the graves he had buried them in twelve years ago. Reliving the moment he found out his old man had burned alive was not something he wanted to do that night but the alcohol had made his mental fortitude weak. Normally, he could force his past into submission without much of a struggle. However, right now Jean was fighting just to keep his breathing level.

As he let out a long heavy sigh, the blonde heard the door he had exited from minutes before suddenly open. He closed his eyes and slumped further because Jean knew who was now outside with him. It would only make sense that his date would wonder where he was, especially since he gave that shit excuse and then hightailed it out of the lounge. But he was too edgy right now to face Marco. All the thoughts of his fathers' charred body lying in the county morgue had left him raw. Yet Jean knew he would have to face his partner and the sound of his approaching footsteps made that very clear.

"Why'd you tell her that you were going out for a smoke when you obviously didn't have a pack in your hand?" Marco smirked, trying to break the ice as he settled against the railing to Jean's left.

"'Cause it was better than telling her I was coming out here to cry," Jean laughed while rubbing his tears away with the palm of his hand. "I'll be alright though so you can go back inside. You haven't seen your friends in a while so I wouldn't want to keep you from them."

"They can deal with it. I'm fine right where I am." Nudging the blonde with his shoulder, Marco peeked at his partner from the corner of his eye. "You want to talk about it? I don't mind listening; really, I don't."

Shaking his head, Jean took in another steadying breath. "No, I'm fine for right now. Maybe one day but not tonight. Is that okay?"

"That's perfectly fine. We can talk about whatever you want or not at all. I just want to be here for you."

"Whatever I want?" Jean murmured, more to himself than Marco. Turning his head, he asked confirmed the offer. "Could we?"

Shifting his weight from one leg to the other so that he could better face the young man, Marco searched his eyes for a hint toward what was going through his head. "Yeah. Whatever you want Jean."

"Then can you tell me what you said in the car? When we were kissing, you whispered something but I couldn't tell what it was."

Taking in a short breath, the brunette sighed heavily. He should have known better than to set himself up for that one. However, he couldn't be to blame. Marco thought Jean had forgotten about what he had almost said in the car; well, kind of said in the car. But the guy was observant and a stickler for the small details so it would make sense that he wouldn't let it go that easily.

With both hands pushing away from the railing, Marco then ran one up the back of his neck to ruffle the hair spilling over from his shaggy undercut while the other fist pushed into his back pocket. He had never confessed to someone before namely because he had never fallen in love. Between work and school, he just simply never had the time to build that kind of relationship with someone. But things were different with Jean. 

Just like the immediate attraction he felt when they first met, the love that he felt now had sprung up out of nowhere when the blonde came to visit after doing triage all day. The pieces fell into place as he was drawing the bath for his traumatized partner and grew even more the following morning when Marco woke up to Jean's peaceful sleeping face and faint snores. It was killing him because the brunette so desperately wanted to say the words; to scream them as loud as he could so that everyone would know. 

But it wasn't that simple. Nothing ever was in his experience. So Marco held back and monitored his words every day following that morning. He was terrified that if they slipped out it would make things awkward between them or that Jean would feel obligated to reciprocate his feelings. However, he had backed himself into a corner now and had no choice but to answer him honestly.

Walking over to the closest cabana that bordered the pool, Marco stared at the water and the small ripples rolling across it's surface as the wind blew in from the shore. "You know, I really wanted to wait on this one until you felt the same way. But," he paused to look up at Jean who had sat down next to him, "I guess you aren't giving me much of a choice."

When Jean saw the pleading expression in his deep beautiful brown eyes, he shook his head. "Not a chance." 

Jean needed to hear what he hoped the other man was going to say. If Marco said 'I love you' then all of the young mans' fears--all his anxiety and mental turmoil that had built up for the past five days would be forgotten because he could finally say it too; and he was dying to say those words. They had been resting on the tip of his tongue since Monday morning--burning the back of his throat and scorching their claim on his heart the longer they went unsaid.

Taking hold of the brunette's hand, Jean wove their fingers together then gave a tight squeeze. "Please Marco?"

Staring into those glittering liquid amber eyes, Marco felt his apprehension die when he saw nothing but love shining back at him. So, swallowing hard on the bundle of nerves that had grown in the back of his throat, the brunette said a silent prayer as the floodgate in his heart crumbled.

"I love you Jean."

.....16 days until fire season.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this playlist is actually one that I had a great deal of fun in making. Like most of my original characters, the DJ's in this fic are based off of my good friends in real life who are actually MC's based out of LA. This setlist was actually the product of sitting down with them and going through my music library to construct a special group of songs that matched the chapter. And because this list was made by the real deal, it has three stages: the warm-up, the heat/"fire", and the simmer/"burnout." So here, from me to you, is the LA Special.
> 
>  
> 
> *Groovin' Kid/Keep It Goin'*
> 
> -"Party People" by Time Passing  
> -"Snakecharmer" by Bassnectar and Kraddy  
> -"Get Ur Freak On (Remix)" by Missy Elliott feat. Nelly Furtado  
> -"Buttons" by The Pussycat Dolls  
> -"Beware Of The Boys (Mundian to Bach Ke)" by Panjabi MC  
> -"Bad Girls" by M.I.A.  
> -"Niliria" by G-Dragon and Missy Elliott  
> -"I Am The Best" by 2NE1  
> -"Take Over Control" by Afrojack feat. Eva Simons  
> -"Ghost Machine/Where Have You Been/Spectrum (Mashup)" by Rihanna, Deadmaus, and Florence + The Machine  
> -"Come Fly Away" by Benny Benassi  
> -"Sun Is Shining (Extended Club Mix)" by Bob Marley  
> -"Make It Bun Dem" by Skrillex and Damian "Jr. Gong" Marley  
> -"Close To You" by Benny Benassi feat. Gary Go  
> -"My House" by Benny Benassi feat. Jean-Baptiste  
> -"Barbra Streisand" by Duck Soup  
> -"Fancy Footwork (Crookers Remix)" by Chromeo  
> -"Original Don" by Major Lazer feat. The Partysquad  
> -"The Hills" by The Weeknd  
> -"House Of Balloons/Glass Table Girls" by The Weeknd  
> -"The Party & The After Party" by The Weeknd  
> -"Dazzle" by Oh Wonder  
> -"Technicolour Beat" by Oh Wonder  
> -"Body Gold (Louis The Child Remix)" by Oh Wonder  
> -"Torrents Of Spring" by Tropics


	4. Rapture Pt. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With everything out in the open, how will Marco and Jean move forward? As the fire season approaches, the men must come to terms with what the separation will mean and learn how to support one another from afar when an unexpected turn speeds up the countdown. (continuation of Rapture Pt. I)
> 
>  
> 
> AUTHOR'S NOTE: Salute mes amis and welcome to part two of the Rapture chapters. So originally, this was all going to be one chapter but when I looked at how massive the word count was, I diced it in half. It picks up exactly after Marco said the three magical words to Jean.
> 
> READER WARNING/SPOILER ALERT!: This is where the firefighting chapters begin so for anyone who has an aversion to fire, burn trauma, etc., please continue with caution. This one won't be morbid but there will be more graphic depictions in future installments.
> 
> Enjoy and good reading!

'He loves me?' Jean thought as he stared back into the swirling pools of smoky brown that were waiting for a response. But he couldn't move, let alone form words. The words he had been dying to hear while holding back his own confession had just been said as if it were by command. His heart broke, reassembled, and then shattered once more at the thought while his lungs struggled to drag in enough air to keep him level-headed. Marco loved him. That strange, beautiful oddity of a human being loved him.

As the young man wrangled in his mind so that he could say the words back, the clouds overhead that had been sluggishly rolling inland all night roared with a clap of thunder before releasing a sudden rush of rain. It was light at first; barely enough to dampen the cabana covering. Yet in minutes it picked up strength as it evolved into a proper downpour. Looking up, at the sky, a smile stretched across Jeans' face. Of course this would happen at this very moment. As if this confession couldn't be anymore dramatic. However, while his attention was turned toward the rain, he felt Marco's hand slide out from his and his weight leave the cushioned bench they had been sitting on.

"We should head in before we get wet," Marco said quietly with a rather ragged voice.

No. No, this wasn't how things should be going and that was not the expression the brunette should be wearing. 'Shit, I haven't said anything back yet,' Jean suddenly remembered. 'He just poured his heart out and I'm looking at the rain. Damn it!' Acting quickly before Marco could leave, the blonde rose to his feet and firmly grabbed the other man by the wrist. With the shock of the cold water clearing his mind enough so that he could finally think, Jean's heart and body were finally working in unison.

Wrapping both arms around Marco's neck with one hand knotting into his soft wavy brown hair, Jean pulled him into a decidedly hot passionate kiss. There was nothing shy about it as he forced both their lips to part into the tangled embrace and took to exploring the brunette's mouth moments after they connected. Without missing a beat, Marco returned the kiss with just as much vigor if not more. Pressing their hips flush against each other, one of his strong hands pressed into the small of Jeans' spine while the other smoothed up his back before settling between his shoulders. 'I need you,' the blonde thought as Marco's lips worked against his in perfect harmony while his tongue slid over his with a gentle roll. 'I want you.'

"Marco," Jean breathed as he kissed a trail from his pillowy lips to his ear. "I love you. I love you so much, it's killing me not saying it."

Burying his face in the crook of Jean's neck with a tender kiss, the brunette released a shuddering sigh. "Thank God. I was so scared that I had fucked this up."

Laughing, the young man tightened his hold around the man shivering in his arms. "You couldn't fuck this up. I'm so hopelessly in love with you Marco, all I see is you."

"I don't know what to do Jean," the brunette murmured, his voice softer than it had ever been before. "I want you all to myself."

"I want you too."

"You aren't just saying that? I can be annoying at times and a bit of an asshole. Are you sure you won't change your mind?"

Chuckling, Jean pulled away just enough so that he could cup the side of the mans' face so that they were now staring at each other eye to eye. "I promise, I won't change my mind. I'm just as guilty of being a pain in the ass and I can be self-centered at times; especially when I'm working. But you make me want to change."

"You're amazing just as you are Jean. I don't want you changing a thing. Good, bad, pissy, mellow dramatic," Marco smirked as he placed little kisses on different parts of his face. "I want all of you."

"Genius, you already have me," the blonde breathed as he pulled his partner into a long kiss. "Now you just have to make me yours."

"Jean...?"

Placing a feather soft kiss by Marco's ear, Jean nosed the sensitive skin before he whispered, "Take me home Marco."

"Home?"

Nodding, the blonde twisted the hair his fingers had been toying with. "Make me yours so that no one else can take me from you."

As the words sank in, Marco opened his eyes; letting the fire in them knock the wind out of Jean. "Alright. Let's go home."

"'Kay."

\-------------------------------------------------------------

The two men couldn't have been more obvious as they left the club in a mad rush. Marco told Earry and Myra that they had to bounce because Jean had work in the morning but the glint in both their eyes said that they could see right through the two lovers. But what did it matter. Jean wanted Marco and refused to wait and the brunette was all too happy to oblige. Hopping into the car, Marco focused on the road and finding a playlist that would keep him focused enough to get them back to the house in one piece. As he did, Jean messaged Eren to let him know that he wasn't coming home.

JEAN: Hey, change of plans. You got the house tonight. I'll probably be back sometime tomorrow afternoon.

EREN: Really? Okay, well have fun.

JEAN: Thanks. And try not to break anything like you guys did the last time I went out of town.

EREN: No promises dude.

EREN: Oh, and remember to use protection.

EREN: ;)

Only the slightest bit embarrassed, Jean just laughed as he put his phone on silent. It was almost ridiculous how Eren could figure someone out without any effort. He was like a human barometer which, in Jeans' opinion, is what made him so good at his job. It's also why Eren was one of the few people that knew him so well. Jean was rarely as open and honest with people as he was with the young brunette. The only other person that could get under his skin like that was sitting in the seat right next to him with one hand on the steering wheel and the other tangling its' fingers with Jeans.

The short ride came to an end less than a half hour later as the car pulled up to the warm facade of the Tudor style home. But despite the drive back from the club being relatively brief, it was still long enough that Jean couldn't keep himself contained much longer. As Marco unlocked the front door, the blonde was quick to make the first move.

Turning him around as the door shut behind them, Jean pulled Marco into an overwhelming embrace as the fires between them were fanned to a new high. Forming around one another, their mouths sought out each other while their hands groped and wandered--feeling what had once been off limits. Marco loved the sound of Jeans voice as he moaned and gasped his name and Jean lost himself in the all-consuming heat of Marco's mouth on his skin and his hands raking down his back. It was as if the world was coming to an end the following morning and this was their last night together. So, acting like tomorrow would never come, Jean let himself drown in Marco--loving each and every moment of how alive it made him feel.

Making it up the stairs was near impossible since the lovers had only made it to the second step before they were tangled up in another kiss. But Marco quickly broke free from the trance and quickly led Jean up the spiral stairway. His room was the third door on the left so, in a spontaneous move born from excitement, the brunette pulled the blonde into a deep embrace before picking him up. Although he was caught off guard by Marco's boldness, the young man willfully complied--wrapping both legs around his partners waist while his arms secured themselves behind the mans' neck.

With little laughs between kisses, Jean smiled as they entered Marco's bedroom and he was gently released onto the king size bed. On the trip down the hall, the blonde had already begun unbuttoning the brunette's shirt. Lying on his back, Jean admired the sharpness of the collarbone that ran across the expanse of his chest and how it looked under that perfect canvas of tan freckled skin. He wanted to rip that shirt off, let the buttons fly as he pushed Marco down and kissed every inch of his body so that was exactly what he did. Thankfully the blouse had snap closures so, when Jean went to yank it open, nothing tore or needed mending. Fulfilling his fantasy, the young man rolled them over so that he was on top and began kissing each and every beauty mark, freckle, and patch of that golden flesh.

"Jean," Marco moaned longingly as his head rolled back. "Babe you're going to kill me if you keep going like that."

"It's a good thing I'm a doctor," he chuckled as his kissed and licked a path down to his partners navel. He could feel Marco's stomach contract and see the muscles flex as he laughed at his horrible joke. "Fuck, you're so hot. How are you in such perfect shape?" he breathed kissing the freckles by the other mans' hips. Spotting a beauty mark inside of a birthmark in the shape of an upside-down heart, Jean nibbled the small patch of skin right by Marco's right hip. "I want you so bad."

"I'm all yours babe," the brunette groaned as his lovers' mouth wandered further and kissed his hardening cock through the fabric of his jeans. "Fuck," he hissed, biting down on his lip when Jean unzipped his fly and started pulling the wet denim off of his legs.

"Whoa," Jean gawked with wide eyes as he took in how big Marco was. He knew from previous 'close encounters' that the guy was hung but he didn't know how well endowed he was until that moment. "Jesus, you're...I can't even think of words right now," he smirked then kissed the tip that was still hidden by Marco's boxers.

"About that," Marco grunted as he propped himself up on both elbows. "In the past, people have kind of had...issues, I guess, so if you want to top I don't--"

"No. No, I want you on top tonight. Besides," Jean smiled as he straddled the brunette; rolling his hips enough to get a little groan out of his partner, "I'm sure it's nothing a little bit of extra prep work can't fix."

"You sure?" the brunette asked as he watched the blonde's hips grind against his; his hand moving to rest low on the mans' waist. "It's not a problem."

"I'm sure. I've wanted to know what you would feel like for a week and you aren't talking me out of it Marco Bott."

"Fine," Marco smiled wickedly as he bucked up against Jean while pulling him down into a kiss. Drinking in the airy moan the other man let go of, he couldn't help but chuckle. "You have way too much clothing on right now."

"Then how about you do something about it?"

"Is that a challenge?"

"And what if it was," Jean growled as their bodies rocked together creating more heat which only made the strain of his confined erection even more deliciously painful. "What are you going to do about it?"

"I just can't win against you."

Now sitting up completely, Marco pulled the white t-shirt up and over Jeans' head before throwing it onto the ground. As the shirt landed next to his discarded pants, so did the flannel that had been tied around the blonde's waist, and his shoes. Pausing for a moment, Marco let his hands wander over the mans' stomach and chest, taking in every beauty mark, each scar that shined in the dim light, and the two tattoos. 

Brushing his fingertips over the spot-on replication of Banksy's "Boy Meet's Girl" that was inked on the inside of his left bicep, the older man trailed down to the words just a few inches below on his forearm that read "This too shall pass." He had seen that one before but the second tattoo was news to him.

Shifting so that Jean was now laying down with his legs tousled together with Marcos', the mood changed from hot and needy to something softer though, strangely enough, just as intense as the reality of that moment caught up with them. Bending over, the brunette kissed his partner with all the love he could possibly pour into a single embrace. Jean was so perfect; everything about him from those tattoo's he strategically covered whenever he was at work to the little quirk in his laughter as Marco kissed up to his ear where his breath tickled the sensitive skin below the lobe. He was everything and more; so much more that it made the mans' heart ache with every beat.

When their lips met again, the spark was still there but now they had patience on their side. As hungry as they were for each other, they wanted to thoroughly enjoy the experience of making love for the first time. So they paced themselves, dutifully learning what the other liked and what sent them into a spin. Much to Jeans' delight, Marco's weakness was his ears and the line of his spine. Every time he dragged his nails down the curve of the brunette's back, a long rumbling moan would sound from his partners' mouth. His ribs were also fairly sensitive but nothing matched the intensity of pleasure the man felt when the blonde teased his back.

On the flipside, Marco couldn't help but smile when he discovered Jean's soft spots. At the base of his back were two little dimples that made the young man squirm and gasp every time he rubbed or skimmed over them. It was an adorable feature he had never seen on a man before. Now that he had, Marco wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to do without them; not that he intended to let go of Jean anytime soon, if at all. Kissing Jeans' hipbones that framed his perfectly toned stomach, the brunette slowly pulled his boxers down until they slipped off his ankles. Then, nipping and sucking on the bare skin of the young mans' inner thigh, Marco moved lower and lower until his lips brushed the head of Jeans' cock.

"Marco," Jean breathed as one of his hands instinctively reached down to tangle itself in his unruly brown hair. As Marco kissed and sucked at his aching member, the young man writhed in his grasp. "Fuck," he moaned. "Marco, it feels so good. God, you're so fucking good."

Pulling back enough to lick up the underside of his length, the brunette kissed the tip as one of his hands knitted together with Jeans' free one. "Keep talking baby. I love hearing your voice."

"Holy shit, Marco don't," the blonde gasped as his partner took all of his hard length with one bob of his head. "Oh my God. Fuck!"

It was so hot inside Marco's mouth and the way his tongue rolled against his hard cock was unbearable. With each passing moment, Jean felt himself come undone. Those curious hands that somehow knew exactly where to touch. That mouth that worked him with unbelievable skill and those moans that vibrated though his body every time Marco let one go. It was all so much; too much. Jean felt himself climbing higher and higher--finally unraveling when the brunette teased the dimples on his back. Coming hard, the blonde rocked in Marco's hands and cried out when the pleasure did not stop until he had been drained. However, despite the current state he was in, Jean knew this was far from over.

Reaching up, the blonde kissed Marco hard; caring nothing of the taste of himself on the mans' tongue. "You are way too good at that. I thought my heart was going to stop."

"Well, good thing I'm trained with emergency CPR," Marco smirked as he parroted Jean's joke back to him.

"You punk," Jean laughed with a bright smile as they pulled each other closer. Feeling Marco's hands sliding down further, he breathed heavily. "Don't stop Marco," he breathed. "I want all of you so don't let go okay."

"I won't."

"Promise?"

Pressing their foreheads together, the brunette nodded with his eyes locked on Jeans'. "I won't let you go Jean. I promise."

As the words were spoken, the first finger pressed inside Jean. The moment it had breached his tight entrance, a gravelly drawn out groan raked its way out of his lungs. Dropping his head onto the pillow, he struggled to keep himself together as the digit slowly yet skillfully worked him open. Gasping as the second one entered--the pair spreading and stretching him moments after it was in--he whimpered as the third finger slipped inside. As they teased his prostate, Marco's lips worried little marks into the skin on Jeans' chest and neck. He was so high on the euphoria of that moment, he wasn't sure if he'd be able to come down from it.

Dragging his nails down Marco's back while rubbing the mans' still clothed erection with the top of his thigh, Jean felt the sparks in his stomach burst into a full blown wildfire. He couldn't take the teasing and gentle ministrations anymore. He needed Marco now and he refused to wait a second longer. Shuddering as the three fingers pushed apart inside him, Jean choked on a moan that became hitched in his throat.

"Marco," he whimpered in between kisses. "No more. I can't wait anymore. Please baby, I need you so bad right now."

"I know babe. Trust me, I'll give it to you soon. I just don't want to--"

"You're not going to hurt me. Making me wait though might. Please Marco," Jean tilted his head up and kissed the brunette's chin. "I want you so much it hurts."

Between Jeans' begging and his own painful arousal urging him onward, Marco felt his reason snap. Withdrawing from the soft heat his fingers had been buried in, he leaned forward to retrieve a condom and the lube from the nightstand drawer. Yet the moment the blonde saw the silver foil square, his hand grabbed the mans' arm by the wrist.

"No," Jean breathed as Marco looked down at him with a hint of confusion in his eyes. "I don't want anything between us. I mean, unless you mind."

"I don't," Marco smiled with a short laugh. 

Kissing the top of the blonde's forehead, Marco shivered when felt his partner pull his boxers down to his knees. Parting just enough so that he could remove them entirely, the brunette suddenly felt shy now that he was completely bare and had Jean's eyes running up and down him. 'Shit, what if he changes his mind?' Marco thought to himself. He had always been uncomfortable with his size. After getting more complaints than compliments, he had lost confidence in his physical form. But when Jeans' eyes reached his, he couldn't help but notice the renewed energy that had begun to swirl in those liquid amber depths.

"It's perfect," Jean cooed as he kissed chin then lips. "Just like you, it's perfect Marco."

Groaning in defeat, the brunette dropped his head to kiss him properly. "I love you."

"I love you more."

"Not possible."

"Well I fell for you first so I win," Jean nipped at his bottom lip while wearing that dazzling smile of his that made the corners of eyes narrow and his cheeks apple.

Overcome by the warmth of his expression, Marco brought him in to a passionate embrace while his free hand that wasn't holding him up smoothed the hair back from Jeans' face. As the kiss deepened, the blonde took the bottle of lube and coated his palm with a generous amount. Then, without breaking the embrace, he moved his hand down and stroked Marco's hot stiff length. Admiring the size and firmness, he sighed at the thought of what it was going to feel like. He had never been this pent up or hot under the collar. That was likely because he had never made love before. Sex was easy. It was a harmless tool he had used countless times to blow off steam. However, this--what they were about to do--was messy because emotions were complicated fickle things just like the hearts that they controlled.

But Jean was ready. He wanted all of Marco; body, mind, and soul. And as he felt the brunette line up at his entrance then slowly push inside, Jean drowned in the pleasure. Despite his partners' fears, the blonde didn't experience any pain as the entire length slipped inside until their hips were flush against each others. While Marco took in a deep breath to quell the fire burning beneath his skin, Jean reached down and placed his palm on his pelvis. As the brunette shuddered his exhale, the young man felt the tip of his length nudge under his hand.

Chuckling, Jean pressed his hand down a bit more; totally awestruck by how filled he was. "Hey Marco, give me your hand." As his partner did as he told, the blonde replaced his palm with Marco's. "Push into me a little deeper."

As he did, Marco's eyes went wide as he felt the movement reflected under his hand followed by a little moan that slipped past Jeans' lips. "Holy shit. Is that me?"

"Yeah. See how perfectly you fit? You have no idea how good it feels right now."

"Really?"

"Really," Jean beamed as he looped his arms around Marco's neck. "I love you. Everything about you," he said as he kissed the brunette's eyebrows, eyelids, nose, cheeks, and lips while combing his hands through his thick luscious hair. "I adore you Marco."

Nuzzling Jeans' neck, he kissed him then breathed in the mans' clean scent that mingled with the dew leftover from the rain. "I know you say it's impossible but I love you so much more. More than I can say. I can't even put it into words, that's how crazy I am for you."

"Then," the blonde cooed softly against his ear. "If you can't tell me then show me," he finished with a sway of his hips. "Make love to me Marco."

Without another word, the brunette pulled back then snapped his hips forward while stealing Jeans' breath with another kiss. Devouring the moans and whimpers, he worked them into a steady pace. Sweat rolled down his arms and it beaded across Jeans' chest as he heaved in stuttering gasps. Their hands clamored for purchase--Jeans' on Marco's back and in his hair while Marco's wander down Jeans' firm thighs before he leaned back to change the angle.

Hitting deeper, Marco felt his partner tighten around him as he hit his prostate with lethal precision. It was the final straw for the young man as he guard came crumbling down. Crying out as loud as his lungs could manage, Jean felt his heart thrashing wildly in his chest as he raced toward his climax. It was overwhelming and he was so on edge but he didn't want to give in just yet. He wanted both of them to fall apart together. So he endured each thrust that was so good it hurt and every loving touch of those hands that brushed over his chest, toying with his nipples or teasing his sides. It was only their first time together yet Marco already knew all of his weak points and worked them as if they had done this hundreds of times before.

Watching the dew roll down Marco's chest, stomach, then down to his hips, Jean shuddered at the sight. He really was too beautiful for this world. Like a god that had purposefully fallen from the pantheon so that it could walk amongst humans, he was otherworldly; perfect in every way. His rich velvet smooth voice crashed over him while those lips that were as sweet as wine massaged his to the point of intoxication. Nothing could top this moment. Nothing could shake this feeling from him. If this was what love felt like with Marco, Jean would happily drown in the cascade as it pulled him under.

"Marco," he breathed, reaching out for his partner. "Marco, I'm going to cum."

"Me too," Marco took both of Jeans' hands in his then, as he pinned them above the blondes' head, he drove deeper. "Cum for me Jean."

"Fuck! Baby I-I'm cumming! I'm cumming!"

With one final punishing thrust, Jean soared into climax; his hands gripping Marco's so tight the knuckles went white. As he hit his peak, so did the brunette. Crying out, the man came hard enough that he was seeing spots. Collapsing almost immediately, the two shivered as they came down from the absurd high they had been riding for the past hour. Neither could speak; the only function possible at the time being breathing, yet even that was strained. Jean had never felt so good--so perfectly at peace--in his entire life, nor had Marco for that matter. There was something about the bliss that left them vulnerable but neither of them shied away from it. They were comfortable just as they were, holding desperately onto one another.

Sighing as Marco slid out, the blonde collected the man into his arms. The main event may have ended but he didn't want to let go. He wanted to hold the brunette as close as possible for as long as possible. It didn't matter that they were covered in God only knew what or that the chances of Kat coming home and discovering them like this were high. What mattered is that Jean finally had all that he had ever wanted.

"If this is what sex with you is going to be like every time, I really need to start working on my stamina," Marco chuckled as he buried his face in Jeans' chest; smiling when he heard the mans' heartbeat beneath his ear. "That was unbelievable."

"It really was," Jean rasped, his voice gone from the shouting and intense kissing during their romp. "I've never been that overwhelmed before. You know, you've got real talent Marco."

"You think?" the brunette said as his tone turned playful. "Maybe I should consider changing careers."

"Don't you even dare," Jean laughed as he tightened his grip around his partner.

"Oh, look who's getting jealous."

"Shut up, you're no different. I saw those sideways glances you were giving Christine."

"Well she's got grabby hands and you're irresistible."

"Mmm," the blonde hummed with a smirk as he looked down at Marco who was looking up at him from his place on his chest. "Am I now?"

Closing the distance between them, Marco placed a small sweet kiss on his lips. "Entirely. There were so many moments when I wanted to just let go and take you but I didn't want to mess everything up."

"You know you think a lot more than I do and my job is all mental."

"Ha!" the brunette snorted a short laugh. "I guess so. But I really was afraid. Since that night you came over after the triage I've wanted to say it but I thought you might freak out or--"

"Wait, since the triage?" Jean repeated as he propped himself up on both elbows. "That's when it clicked for you too?"

"Too? Don't tell me...?"

"That's when I realized I was in love with you," Jean smiled, wearing a look of complete utter disbelief.

"We both fell for each other on the same day? You can't be serious?" Marco shook his head before flopping back down. Wrapping both arms around the blonde's waist, he smiled. "That's kind of funny to be totally honest. This whole time I was freaking out about keeping quiet until you were ready only to find out you were doing the same thing. Damn."

"I know. We're a real bunch of idiots. But it's alright so long as you're mine." Kissing the top of his head, Jean nuzzled into the brown hair that tickled his cheeks. "I love you Marco.

"I love you too Jean," the brunette said kissing the skin beneath his lips. "Always."

\----------------------------------------------------------------------

The smell of fresh coffee and food cooking woke Jean from his deep sleep. He hadn't slept that soundly in years. Tucked safely in Marco's arms, he had drifted off in a matter of minutes once they had settled in after a long relaxing soak in the tub. Rolling on to his back, the blonde stretched his arms, legs, and back all while wearing a smile. He felt like some Disney princess waking up to greet the birds singing at the windowsill. It was a hideously perfect moment and would probably repeat itself now that he and Marco had sealed the deal on their relationship.

Laughing to himself, the blonde hid his face in the sheets that were bunched up in his hands. It was wild how he could still feel the brunette's hands on him as he recalled the events of the previous night. He remembered how his soft lips travelled up the inside of his thighs, kissed the beauty mark on his left hip with purpose, and teased him into submission. How those hands mapped his body with precision--learning every little thing that turned him on and recorded the memory in the tips of his fingers. He could still feel the heavenly sensation of Marco's breath against his neck as he slid inside of him; filling him to the brim with an unbelievable heat. That voice that called to him as he fell apart and those eyes that never once looked away...

Jean had to stop himself before he got hard just from thinking about what they had done. Sliding out of bed, the young man slipped on his boxers and t-shirt that had spent the night on the floor with the rest of their clothes. When he opened the bedroom door, he followed the sound of music down the stairs, through the sunny living room, and into the kitchen where Marco was grooving along to the melody. It was a Latin song that Jean knew he had heard before but couldn't remember until he glanced at the screen of the iPhone that was plugged into the dining room's sound system.

"I didn't know you listened to samba music," Jean chuckled as he bobbed his head to 'Mas Que Nada' by Sergio Mendes.

Turning away from what he was cooking, Marco smiled; kissing the blonde sweetly on the lips. "Yeah, my mom used to listen to it a lot when I was little because it reminded her of home. How do you like your toast?"

"Golden with a little bit of butter. You're mother's Brazilian? I didn't know that?"

"Yup. Born and raised in Rio de Janeiro before coming to the states for school."

"Does that mean you can speak Portuguese too?" Jean smirked as the brunette leaned against the granite bar counter between them. "Can I hear?"

Tilting his head to the side with a mischievous grin, Marco reached out to take hold of Jeans' wrist. Pulling him around the bar and into the kitchen, the older man kissed him long and deep before saying "bom dia lindo" against his partners lips in that sultry voice he knew Jean loved. Groaning, the blonde pulled him into another embrace while carding his fingers through his thick chestnut brown hair. How could this man possibly be more attractive than he already was? It was like Jean was playing "The Price Is Right" with God and behind curtain three was "Firefighter with a great personality, hot body, and, coincidentally, spoke Portuguese as well as Spanish, French, and English." And as Marco effortlessly deepened the kiss while turning off the stove, the blonde couldn't help but smile. He always had his eye on everything and anything.

"When we're done with breakfast, I'm redeeming that second round you promised me last night but this time, I want you to talk in Portuguese," Jean said in a low teasing tone as he bit Marco's bottom lip.

"Jesus, you're a fucking minx."

"Don't act like you don't love it."

"Oh I do," he grinned like the devil while wrapping both arms around the blonde's waist. Pulling him even closer, the brunette moaned, "We could always put off breakfast until after we're done."

"Any other day, I'd say yes but after last night, I need something to eat to bounce back from that."

"I'd say you already have bounced back," Marco teased as he palmed the smooth firm surface of Jeans' backside.

"Food first. Then we can screw each other senseless."

"Fine."

As they parted, Jean kept an arm around Marco's waist. Kissing his arm, the blonde watched as his hands skillfully cubed some small baby golden potatoes and green onions. Tossing them into the frying pan, the brunette glanced down at him and asked if he wanted to help. Nodding with a happy smirk, Jean joined him with the tasks at hand. While Marco added the chorizo to the potatoes to make the hash and poached the eggs--he had taken over after Jeans' three failed attempts--the young man to his right toasted the English muffins that would go with the Benedict eggs and cut up the tomato.

The music continued to play as they cooked which led to Marco sporadically breaking out into a little dance or singing along to the lyrics. And while Jean couldn't understand what was being sung fifty percent of the time, he knew that the playlist must have been one of his partners' favorites. Each song had over two hundred hits on its play count. It was when "The Girl from Ipanema" by Frank Sinatra and Antonio Carlos Jobim came on that Jean could finally sing along. While the blonde sang the parts that were in English, Marco crooned the parts in Portuguese which only made the young mans' heart flutter even more.

Once the food was ready, the brunette led them outside with their loaded plates in his hands while Jean carried the drinks--freshly pressed juice made with the oranges Kat's mom had dropped off a couple days ago. Relaxing while they ate at the table on the side patio, they took joy in each others' company. Knocking their feet against one another's under the table and tossing bits of their English muffins at the small birds that had gathered close by, the two couldn't be more happy than they were in that moment. 

But like all good things, their perfect little world came crumbling down as a gentle breeze carrying the scent of smoke on it came whistling through the trees and rolled over the terrace. Raising a hand to put a pause on the conversation, Marco sat up straight--his body stiff and on edge as if an alarm had been tripped. Jean didn't understand the sudden change until a second gust of wind, this time carrying enough of the deep smoky smell, came barreling through. Looking at the brunette, their eyes locked; his questioning while Marco's swam with unease.

Before either spoke a word, Marco shot up and sprinted toward the driveway with Jean hot on his heels. The incline would have been a monster to overcome if it hadn't been for the wooden steps that ran parallel to the path. Taking the stairs two at a time, the brunette forced himself to go as fast as he could as the panic in his gut knotted up even more. That smoke was too close for comfort. From the intensity and direction it was coming from, the fire it had originated from couldn't be more than a dozen or so miles away.

Reaching the top of the drive, the brunette ran down the street until he reached a clearing on the left-hand side of the road that overlooked the valley below. It was just as he had feared. There, in the distance on the other side of the city was a massive column of dark gray smoke. Judging from the color, the fire couldn't be more than a few hours old; ten at most. But if that was so, then why hadn't he gotten a call from Marlo yet? Yeah, he had the day off but that thing was burning in a national reserve that was practically in his backyard. Turning to look at Jean, he could see the knowing expression in his amber eyes.

"We need to get back to the house," Jean breathed; still in shock from seeing the towering plume of smoke on the other end of the valley. "Marlo's probably going to call you in."

"Guess we'll have to rain check on that second round," Marco joked as he tried to ease some of the tension.

Right as the brunette placed his hand on the other mans' elbow to start walking them back to the house, Kat came tearing down the road in her burgundy Jeep Rubicon. Like a bat out of hell, the massive vehicle roared down the path until the driver caught sight of the two men standing to the side in their t-shirts and underwear. Shaking her head, the blonde woman pulled over with a screech of the tires and pushed the passenger door open.

"Well stop standing there in your boxers like some newly hazed jocks and get the fuck in," she commanded; her southern twang putting more force in her voice than it usually did.

Obeying her command, Marco and Jean hopped in then hung on for dear life as she raced toward the house. They could see the edginess of her posture and the jiggling of her leg on the gas pedal as she switched gears. This wasn't good. Nothing ever got Kat spooked, least of all work; not like that it didn't. She was one of the few people at their station that could probably get off on fighting fires. But in that moment, she looked like she had just seen the face of death himself and was running from the specter like the damned ran from the devil. 

"Kat, what's happening?" Marco asked in a tone Jean had never heard before.

"The fucking Santa Ana winds came early is what fucking happened," she growled. "A massive wind knocked down two utility poles running through the outskirts by Gould Mesa Trail. Apparently the transformers blew to high hell and set the brush on fire. The son of a bitch has already burned over six hundred acres because the fucker started at two different points."

"Holy shit," the brunette said under his breath. "Why didn't Marlo call me?!"

"The fuck would I know?! All I know is that I was in the middle of getting dirty with Josie when this fucker blew and suddenly I gotta go. I'm pent up, pissed off, and freaked out because that sucker is right on the county line." 

Pulling up to the house, Kat jumped out of the car and slammed her door shut before sprinting toward the front door. As Marco followed her, Jean ran around to the side patio and brought the food in. After setting the dishes down, he wondered for a moment about what he should do. Should he go home? He'd need a ride back to his place for that. Or should he just stay there? Knowing Marco, he wouldn't want Jean to stick around wherever there was a wildfire; even if it was miles and miles away. The man knew that they made the blonde uncomfortable because it brought up sore memories.

Unable to sit around pondering what to do any longer, Jean went up stairs. When he reached Marco's room he sat down on the bed while his lover ran around grabbing his backpack with his uniform in it. As he spoke to who Jean could only assume was Marlo on the other line, the brunette wedged his cell phone between his ear and shoulder as he tugged on his jeans and buckled the belt. The scene was a dramatic departure from the joy filled haze the morning had started off with. Just a few hours ago, Jean had woken from the postcoital bliss to the sight of Marco cooking him breakfast. Before that, they had confessed to each other and made love for the first time.

Yet now, the world outside the shelter of this home was burning down and Marco had to go tame it. The man he loved more than the air in his lungs and the beat of his own heart was about to go risk his life for the safety of others; complete strangers that wouldn't shed a single tear if he came back injured or not at all. But Jean would cry. He would cry and scream and curse every god he could think of for taking this man away from him. As the blonde let the reality of their current situation sink in, Marco caught the expression on his face and refused to let it take hold of him.

Ending his conversation with his station captain, Marco put both hands on either side of Jeans' face and forced him to look up. "Babe, don't start spiraling without me. I'm right here okay."

"Kat said it was a massive fire," he breathed his throat tightened.

"Six hundred acres sounds like a lot but it's smaller than you think." When he saw that Jean was still in a state of fear, Marco pulled him in for a long soothing kiss; his tongue rolling sweetly over the other's while one hand smoothed back his partners' hair. "I'm going to be fine Jean. This is nothing. I'll be back before you even have enough time to miss me."

"Then promise me," Jean choked as he held his lovers' hands that framed his face. "Promise me you'll come back unharmed and in one piece. Please Marco."

Pressing their foreheads together, the brunette took a deep breath with both eyes closed. "I promise you, Jean," he breathed, their gaze connecting when he opened his to those pools of flowing golden amber. "I'll come home to you. But you have to do me something in return."

"Anything."

"I want you to take my car and drive back to your place. That fire is knocking at the county line and, if the winds agitate it, it could jump the canyon and head straight toward the city. I don't want you anywhere near here, okay? I can't do my job if I think you're still here so you have to get out alright."

Nodding, Jean moved his arms to pull Marco into a tight hug. "Okay, I promise."

"Good," Marco rasped as he fought to keep his emotions in check. Kissing the top of his head, the brunette combed back the feathery blonde hair atop his partners' head. "It'll be alright babe. I've got a whole team and air coverage at my back. I'll come home to you, safe and sound and in one piece; promise."

Popping her head in, Kat paused as her expression softened and her voice took on a more sympathetic tone. "Marco, we got to start heading out."

"I'll be down in a minute, 'kay." 

When she shook her head and left, the brunette turned back to Jean and kissed him one more time. It was a deep, adoring, all-consuming embrace that scorched his name onto Jeans' heart like lovers' would carve their initials into a tree trunk. He poured everything he felt and wanted to convey into that single kiss before sealing it with a small chaste peck on the lips. Wiping the tears away from Jeans' cheeks with his thumbs, Marco hug him one more time before forcing himself to let go.

"I'll call you when I come back okay," he said grabbing his backpack. Kissing the blondes' forehead, he whispered, "I love you Jean."

"I love you Marco."

Kissing his head again, Marco ripped himself away and headed toward the door. "Stay out of trouble while I'm gone and keep an eye on Ymir. I'll be home soon."

And with that, Marco left the house. Wandering over to the bedroom window, Jean watched as his lover slid into the passenger seat of Kat's car and closed the door. Within moments, the behemoth of a vehicle roared to life and spun around in the driveway before it vanished up the driveway in the blink of an eye. With them they took all the light and joy Jean had felt that morning. Nothing was left except for the sudden emptiness that came with the silence that settled over the house. Marco was gone; running toward danger while he compelled Jean to run away from it. 

In that moment, he realized that the brunette wouldn't be back before Jean could miss him because he already did. He missed him and couldn't stop the tears from coming now because the fact of the matter was that fires couldn't really be controlled; not if the weather wasn't on their side. And from the sound of the howling winds whistling through the tress, Jean knew deep in his gut that this blaze wasn't going to die easily.

"Please," Jean prayed with both eyes shut. "Please come back to me."

 

........0 days until fire season........

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this time around, since the smokejumpers have been introduced, I wanted to post the playlist Kat (Marco's friend) listens to every time she needs to get into the zone for a jump or when there's a big fire the team is going up against. She's an eccentric so consider yourself warned.
> 
>  
> 
> *I AM THE MASTER EXPLODER!*
> 
> -"Master Exploder" by Tenacious D  
> -"Run Through The Jungle" by Creedence Clearwater Revival  
> -"Welcome To The Jungle" by Guns 'N' Roses  
> -"Paradise City" by Guns 'N' Roses  
> -"Cherry Bomb" by The Runaways  
> -"Bad Reputation" by Joan Jett & The Blackhearts  
> -"Let's Dance" by David Bowie  
> -"We Will Rock You" by Queen  
> -"We Are The Champions" by Queen  
> -"Another One Bites The Dust" by Queen  
> -"Name Of The Game (Big Ass T.T. Mix)" by The Crystal Method  
> -"So What'cha Want" by Beastie Boys  
> -"Sabotage" by Beastie Boys  
> -"Business" by Eminem  
> -"Without Me" by Eminem  
> -"Freaks" by Timmy Trumpet feat. Savage  
> -"Bad Girls" by M.I.A.  
> -"Dirty Harry" by Gorillaz  
> -"Heart Go Faster" by Davey Brothers  
> -"The Little Things" by Danny Elfman  
> -"Animals" by Nickelback  
> -"Knights Of Cydonia" by Muse  
> -"House Of The Rising Sun" by Muse  
> -"Plug In Baby" by Muse  
> -"Look Alive, Sunshine" by My Chemical Romance  
> -"Na Na Na (Na Na Na Na Na)" by My Chemical Romance  
> -"Planetary (GO!)" by My Chemical Romance  
> -"Jet-Star And The Kobra Kid/Traffic Report" by My Chemical Romance  
> -"Party Poison" by My Chemical Romance  
> -"Scarecrow" by My Chemical Romance  
> -"Numb vs. Encore (Mashup)" by Linkin Park and Jay-Z  
> -"No Church In The Wild" by Jay-Z and Kanye West feat. Frank Ocean and The-Dream


	5. Missing You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean struggles to keep it together while Marco is away, Ymir opens up to one of her interns, and the boys share a late-night chat...
> 
>  
> 
> AUTHOR'S NOTE: Salute mes amis! Comment ca va? Sorry that it has taken me so long to get around to updating Afterglow. I was focusing on One Of Many Waves for a bit since it had fallen to the wayside and then I was in and out of the hospital for a couple of weeks for a few minor glitches with my ticker. Haha. But all is well now out in orbit. This chapter is going to be a long one and is more about establishing the foundation of Jean and Marco's relationship so there won't be a lot of physical action but a good deal of dialogue.
> 
> HEAD'S UP!: I am clearly not a firefighter and, therefor, I may get some of these things wrong or a bit backwards so please don't go nailing me to a cross if you're a firefighter or know one and catch a mistake. I have tried doing as much research as possible on this to get it as close to real as possible but since I don't work in the field, I can't write about it the same way I do for journalism or astronomy. So, in advance, my apologies and please don't throw me in an incinerator.

Jean wasn't sure how fast he was going or if the sirens in the distance were more fire engines responding to the blaze he was driving away from. The reporter on the radio had said that the fire had grown exponentially within the last hour due to the raging Santa Ana winds that came barreling through the hills and valleys every twenty or so minutes. People had already been put on alert in case there was an evacuation and breeders had already been forced to move any horses that were being housed in the area to different locations. The longer Jean listened to radio, the more he was certain that his heart was breaking. But he couldn't break down; not just yet. Not until he was home.

Pulling up to the Malibu home he shared with Eren, the intern exited the borrowed car in a hurry. Locking it as he dashed to the door, Jean reached for the knob of the front entrance while hoping that his roommate had forgotten once more to turn the latch. He entered the house with little resistance and made a mental note to scold Eren when he wasn't on the brink of falling apart. Making a bee-line to the living room, Jean turned on the television--switching over immediately to the breaking news--and stood in complete silence as the broadcast came on.

"What the hell?!" Eren said sharply as he came bolting out, still half naked and trying desperately to conceal his morningwood under what had to be Levi's sleeping shirt. "Fuck Jean, you scared me. Jean..?"

The brunette tapped his friend on the shoulder when there was no reply. When Jean didn't respond to the gentle nudge, Eren looked at the TV to see what had him so tongue tied. When he saw the report, he immediately knew what had happened. The female news anchor came on wearing an expression that was somewhere between stern and solemn. Clearing her throat, she delivered the less than favorable update.

"Now with a live update from the brush fire in La Canada Flintridge," spoke the woman. "Wildlands firefighters have just arrived on the scene but the blaze, which started a little after nine-thirty this morning, has doubled in size due to interference from the Santa Ana winds despite the relatively low temperature. We now turn to our field correspondent, Kimberly Lao for an in-depth report."

While the figures on screen rambled on, Jean could feel his body going numb. The fire had doubled? How was that even possible in such a short amount of time? In between shots of the firefighters and "glamour shots" of the fire, he could see Marco's engine pull up to the scene in the background. Twin trucks painted the iconic cherry red with the white "82" rolled up with sirens blaring and men and women ready to leap into action. 

As luck would have it, the first one out of the largest engine--with his khaki turnout gear and helmet on but face guard down--was Marco. Exuding strength and authority, he began barking orders and clearing the scene of any civilians. 'Please,' Jean prayed silently with his gaze fixed on the screen. 'Please stay safe.' Then, through the space between them, their eyes met as Marco turned to glance over his shoulder at the cameraman. Jean's heart fluttered and his lungs clenched as they connected in that fleeting moment. It were as if they could hear each others thoughts despite being miles and miles away.

"Marco..." Jean breathed as their eyes lingered for a second more before the brunette on screen turned away to lead his squad toward the head of the blaze.

Looking away from his friend, Eren took a couple steps toward the hall he had just exited out of when he saw Levi quietly entering the space. Whereas his lover was relatively unscathed, the surgeon had a wild case of bedhead, hickies all over his neck and clavicle, and small pink scratch marks on his thighs and biceps. Dressed similarly to Eren, Levi sported a fresh pair of formfitting black Body Armor boxer briefs and a white t-shirt that had seen better mornings.Yet despite his appearance, he didn't look the least bit ashamed or embarrassed. What he did look, though, was irritated since he and Eren were in the middle of some early morning foreplay.

"What's going on?" the surgeon groaned; his voice still rough from the morning haze and fading arousal. As Eren placed a gentle peck on his jaw before wrapping an arm around his waist, Levi took notice of Jean and then of what he was watching. "Holy shit, is that breaking now?"

"Yeah," Jean sniffed back his tears even though some had already broken past his defenses. "Two transformers blew this morning and started it."

"Marco's team must've gotten called in," Levi muttered without thinking.

"No shit. If he hadn't, I wouldn't be here right now."

Jabbing Levi in the side, Eren cleared his throat before attempting to clear some of the anxiety and anger that was souring Jean's mood. "I know this is probably the last thing you want to hear because it sounds like some shitty cop out but," the brunette paused as he took hold of both of the blonde's shoulders. "Marco will be fine."

"You don't know that. Fires can't be contained when the weather is working against them."

"Jean..."

"Just stop!" he snapped without thinking. Sighing angrily, Jean collapsed onto the couch with his face in his hands. "Just let me be pissed off. Please? You'd feel the same way if it was Levi so let me feel this Eren."

Glancing to his lover, Levi breathed out while rubbing the nape of his neck. "Hey, I'm not going to tell you not be upset or sad or whatever because God know's you got every right. But try to remember exactly what kind of firefighter Marco is. You don't get to be a smokejumper and a temp for the hotshots if you aren't good. Your boyfriend is one of the best in the country, Jean. He knows exactly what he's doing so have a little faith in him. He came back from last years shit storm and was one of the guys that was moved around the most during the 2013 season since all of California was on fire. If he can get through that, this is nothing."

When Jean didn't move, Levi let go of Eren. Nodding as his lover told him to "be nice," the dark-haired man crouched down next to the silent young man. He could see his face had turned pink from holding back the tears and that his hands were shaking slightly. From that alone, Levi knew the damage he and Marco had done to each other last night. He knew that his best friend was in love with his intern but had been holding those words back for a while. But, from the looks of it, they had come clean to one another and had spent their first night together. 

Of course separating suddenly after something as earth shattering as that could be painful. However, Jean needed to understand that his boyfriend wasn't just running head-first into danger without any semblance of what he was doing or what was at stake. He wasn't lying when he said Marco was one of the best firefighters in the country. It was why he was always gone. The guy was either on loan to another sister branch in California or with another team in a different state; sometimes he was even called in to help with burns on the borders by Canada and Mexico. With his talent, it was unlikely that Marco would let some wimpy 1,200 acre brush fire snuff him out. But Jean had been scarred by the loss of his father doing the same job. So Levi knew to tread lightly.

"Jean," Levi said in a softer tone. "Look, I understand you're afraid of losing him. I can't really relate to what you've been through because I don't know what that's like. But what I do know is that Marco is feeling the same thing you are right now. That guy is all heart so he's probably missing you like hell which is why I know he'll do everything in his power to put this fire out. He still had a few weeks left before the season started and chances are he wants that time back. I'm not saying you can't miss him or worry about his safety. That's normal, especially when you love the person," Levi paused when he saw Jean wince at the 'L' word. "But don't doubt him. He'll come back; I know he will."

Sniffling with his hands still hiding his eyes, the intern nodded as a pair of tears dropped from between his fingers. "Thanks Levi; really. I'll be fine in a little bit. I just need to be alone right now, 'kay?"

"Alright. Let us know if you need anything." Rising from his spot on next to Jean, the older man turned and kissed Eren softly on the cheek with a loving squeeze on the hip. "I'll be in the kitchen making breakfast. Is coffee good or did you want something else?"

"I think I'll have tea today. Thanks babe," the brunette replied quietly with a kiss back before he let Levi go. Looking to his friend, Eren placed a hand on his shoulder. "Did you want to talk? I'm right here if you need me Jean."

Lifting his head, Jean forced a smile. "I'll be okay Eren. I think I'll just go for a walk. You guys look like you were in the middle of something."

"Dude, it's fine. I can--"

"It's alright," he said with a grunt as he stood up. Walking toward the front door, Jean raised a hand a waved it lazily over his head. "I'll be back in an hour so use the time wisely, 'kay."

As the door closed, Eren raked a hand through his messy brown hair then sighed. "Damn it..."

\-------------------------------------------------------------

It was strange but Marco could have sworn he had heard Jean calling his name from across the trailhead parking lot. He knew it was impossible but he turned around nonetheless. However, the only thing he saw was a news team on the other end with a camera pointed directly at his engine. Staring at them, the brunette tried to shake the feeling but it lingered on him like sweat on skin. He couldn't explain it but could feel Jean calling out just like he had done in his dreams before they met for the second time at the hospital. It was like they were connected by an invisible thread that would eventually lead him home.

"Jean..." Marco breathed as he looked at the news team and that camera that stared him down.

"Marco," Kat called from a couple feet away. Dressed in her black turnout gear with a faller's saw and line strapped to her back, she was more imposing than usual. "We gotta get goin'."

"Has everyone split into their squads?"

"Yeah. Mika, Con, Burke, and Tye are with us. We're just waitin' on you." Looking closely at him, the woman noticed something strange flash quickly across his eyes. "Hey, you alright? You ain't getting jitters or anything are you?"

"I'm fine," Marco said, immediately swapping his civilian face for the one he wore while at work. The moment he locked his normal self away, his shoulders straightened, his head lifted, and the gaze from his fluid earthen eyes hardened. Turning away from the camera, he addressed his team. "Alright people, let's move. This fire ain't going to put itself out. Springer, Ackerman, you're cutting and swamping. Burke and Tye, I need you to cut a break line with wiggle room in case the winds pick up. We got seven hours starting now."

As the squad began to disperse toward the burning ridge line, Marco took one last glance at the news team as they began packing up their own gear to get better footage of the crews working on the south end of the fire. Somehow, the feeling he had before had gone away. A couple minutes ago, he could have sworn his lover was shouting for him across the way yet he hadn't heard a word. It was more like a feeling; as though he had sensed Jean's presence lingering in the place in that very moment. But when he had turned back to catch the fleeting sensation, it had already vanished. 

So with a lick of the lips, the brunette took the thick yellow guard hanging to the right of his helmet and pulled it across his face then grabbed his extra gear. Ahead of them was a blaze taller than the neighboring trees being fanned by the hellish winds barreling through the canyon. It was going to be a long job with little sleep and even less down time between shifts. With the trail before him and a prayer hanging silently on his lips, Marco followed his team as they marched off toward the inferno.

\-------------------------------------------------------------

Time had been a blur in which days turned into weeks and mornings began looking sneakingly similar to sunsets; or was it the other way around? Jean couldn't care less if it meant keeping himself distracted which was something he very much needed. Waking up early every day, even on those rare mornings he had off, the intern had gotten into the habit of going on long runs to clear his head from the junk that had began to clutter his mind while sleeping. 

He hadn't dreamt of his father's death in years but now those images of his charred hand hanging out from the tarp covering on the gurney and his mother falling to her knees as she worked herself into a sobbing wreck began to resurface. The young man knew that it was probably best to talk to someone about it. Repressing traumatic memories like that never ended well but he couldn't find the time. Or maybe it was that he didn't want to find the time. Either way, it didn't matter. If Marco could keep his shit together and stare down a towering inferno then he could stay calm and trust that his partner would come home. 

True, it hurt every morning that he woke up and had to remind himself that the brunette wasn't there. And it was absolute torture talking to him on the phone because Jean would do anything to reach through to the other end and kiss him for just for a minute. But he knew what he was getting into when he agreed to go on that first date with Marco. Jean knew what falling in love with him meant; what it would imply and ask of him and he knowingly accepted the terms and conditions because it was impossible to not love him. Yet, every once in a while in the late evening when Eren had gone to bed or confirmed that he was spending the night at Levi's, Jean allowed himself a small moment or two for crying. It was the only thing he could do to keep himself from falling apart completely.

But despite his efforts to keep his anguish private, the subtle changes were caught by the ever watchful gaze of Ymir. Nothing could escape that womans' burning umber stare. However, regardless of what her lingering eyes did to others, Jean managed to shirk the feeling it used to give him. It was admirable watching him carry on without letting his private life interfere with his professional life. Getting to work on time every day, running labs, staying on top of the patients needs while assessing new ones... He was blooming into a fine doctor quicker than the others in his group. 'A regular savant,' Ymir smirked with a little snort as she watched her intern list off the symptoms the newest charge to his patient roster was experiencing. 'Now if only you'd take care of yourself instead of worrying about my idiot brother.'

Deciding to take matters into her own hands, the surgeon waited for the rest of her interns to leave the room before she stuck a hand in front of the blonde. Effectively stopping him, Ymir told Anka--the other resident on the morning shift with her--to take over pre-rounds for a bit. With a jerk of her chin in the general direction of the courtyard, the woman made it clear that she wanted Jean to follow her. 

As they walked toward the outdoor sitting place in relative silence, Ymir worked out what she wanted to say. She had never dealt with anyone apart from her family and close friends on this level. Emotions were messy and didn't mix well with her most of the time. But in Jean she saw herself when she had arrived at Cedars-Sinai as an intern. Consequently, that was also the year she met Krista and learned how bittersweet love could be. She understood exactly what he was going through which was why she was the only person that could have this conversation with him.

Lighting up a cigarette once they were outside, the brunette motioned for him to sit down next to her. Without arguing or hesitation, Jean took a seat on the stone bench; his eyes scanning the mildly cloudy sky overhead. He knew that Ymir knew he was exhausted and rundown. It was obvious from the look in her eyes. And it was clear that this conversation they were about to have--whether he wanted it or not--wasn't meant to be an attack or confrontation. She was genuinely concerned for him but the problem was that he didn't know how to word things out. Jean hated feeling vulnerable and there was nothing quite like bearing your soul to your boss to leave you feeling buck naked in broad daylight.

After taking a long drag from her cigarette, Ymir exhaled before speaking. "Well since you won't start this conversation, I will. How many hours of sleep are you working off of right now?"

"Three," Jean sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Maybe four. I don't really know."

"And when was the last time you had a real meal?"

"Yesterday afternoon on my lunch hour."

"Damn it Kirstein, you can't do that," Ymir frowned. Turning to look at him, the scowl deepened when she saw how pale and tired he looked now that he was sitting. "You look like absolute shit. Marco would kill me if he knew this was going on."

"I'm not your responsibility. I'm a grown man and I can take care of myself."

"Tell me that when you've learned to eat three square meals a day and have gotten more than 'maybe three hours' of sleep. Look, I know you aren't my responsibility but I know how much you mean to my brother and vice versa. Trust me, he has people doing this to him right now too."

"What's your point Ymir?"

"When was the last time you two talked?"

Biting his bottom lip, Jean shied away from the question. "Why do you need to know that?"

"Because I do." The tone in her voice made it clear that there was no getting out of this one.

With a pitiful sigh, Jean hunched forward--allowing his head to hang low. "Four days. I just...it hurts when we talk because I want to see him. I've never been in love with someone before this so it's all new to me. But I don't want to distract him from his work because I don't want to risk him getting hurt. It's just complicated."

"Love is complicated," she breathed heavily. Snuffing out the small remainder of the cigarette, Ymir looked up and watched the clouds roll on by. "You know, I was about your age when I met my fiancee. Marco was training for the Hotshot team that was stationed in Santa Clarita and one night he and the crew went out for drinks. He invited me out since it had been months since we last saw each other in person. He also knew I needed a break from the endless day to day shittiness that came with being an intern. So I made the trip to meet his new team for the summer and that's when I met her."

"Krista, right?"

Nodding, Ymir smiled. "Yeah. She was perfect; all sass with a kick of sugar. I could've sworn she fell straight out of heaven when I saw her standing in that dingy bar. I knew I loved her the moment I set eyes on her and that she was it for me. We were together almost every single day leading up to fire season. She'd call in the evenings to wish me good night and I'd wake up to a text from her every morning. We'd get lunch and do sappy couple shit on the weekends. It was amazing and I felt like I had wandered into a dream," the surgeon said before her expression turned somber. "But then her team was called up for service in Colorado and, just like that, she was gone. I didn't see her again for three months. I know it hurts; especially for those of us who are left behind. But it's also hard on them. The day she came home, Krista broke down and cried for an hour because they had lost two firefighters and one of the guys form her unit was in the hospital for a fractured spine. They need us a lot more than we know Jean. Marco needs you a lot more than you know. Four days to us is like a lifetime to them."

Standing up, Ymir stretched with a long groan while she bent from one side to the other. She was gobsmacked that she had let that much of herself be known but there was nothing to be done now. Jean already knew that she was engaged to a firefighter; Marco was terrible at keeping things a secret or quiet for that matter. It also didn't matter because she and her intern were cut from the same clothe. They were control freaks that would much rather cozy up with a cadaver than talk to people. 

Human emotion was terrifying to them because they had been trained to repress it since their job depended on them having complete control of their faculties in all imaginable situations. Crack a chest open and remove a faulty heart to replace it with a new one? Easy. Fix a bleed in the abdomen of a gunshot victim? Simple as pie. Tell your significant other that you love them and don't want to live another day without them? Not a chance in hell. That was something better left for the psych department.

Yet still, she and Jean couldn't deny wanting to lean a little bit closer to the light that radiated off of their lovers. Krista was so kind, warm, and fun but could kick anyone's ass if they rubbed her wrong. She was a petite ball of fury that only calmed down in the evening after a long soak in the tub with a cup of apple cider. Marco on the flipside was brighter than the grandest star in the night sky; burning enough so that others could bask in the warmth that flowed from him. He was witty, mellow, kindhearted and considerate yet still had a bite to his words when he wanted it. How could they possibly not love the two knuckleheads? They couldn't and Ymir knew it and Jean was slowly realizing it.

"I'm heading back in but you can have the next half hour off. You're up for a break anyways," the woman said as she began walking toward the entrance. "Use your time wisely Kirstein and eat for fucks sake."

Chuckling as she left, the blonde sighed as the doors shut behind her. It had been so long since he heard Marco's voice; he was almost afraid of what would happen if they did talk. But Jean wanted to hear him speak so badly. He missed the rich timbre of his voice and the little hiccup in his laughter. He wanted to reach out and hold him close and whisper 'I love you' sweetly in his ear while feeling the brunette's breaths on his neck. Yet more than all that combine, Jean wanted to hold that perfect face in his hands and look into those beautiful eyes; the ones that had a freckle in the bottom center of the left eye with mirrored the freckle in the bottom center of his right golden eye. 'God, I really miss him,' he admitted to himself. caving a moment later, Jean pulled his cell out of his pocket and dialed the number three on his speed dial.

A half minute later when no one answered, the intern ended the call, wiped the tears from his face, and went back inside.

\----------------------------------------------------------

"We've got some reflash up here!" Kat shouted into her radio to Marco who was half a yard away working on his portion of the burning ridge. "This witch ain't dying without a fight and something tells me water isn't gonna do."

Listening to her over the device, he cursed under his breath. "And here I was hoping I was the only one having trouble."

"Not a chance, sweet cheeks."

"I'll call Marlo and let him know we need another water bomb over here. It's burning too hot here to get at it with lines."

"Copy that baby," Kat said before taking a quick hop back as a flame came up to lick at her gear. "Fuckin' Christ on a cross, little bitch tried to shake hands with me!"

"You alright?"

Chuckling when she heard the concern in his tone, Kat turned the hose back on and resumed wetting down the brush and vegetation. "Yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry that pretty head of yours. I'm Smoky Bear, remember?"

"I know Kat but seriously, watch yourself over there."

"I will Marco."

"Right," he said with a small smile. "Well, I'm putting in a request for a water drop. The winds are kicking this up the ledge and we're getting nowhere right now."

"Sounds like a plan to me."

It had been three weeks since ignition and twenty hours and thirty minutes since Marco's last break. Exhausted, fatigued, and dehydrated, he was forcing himself to hold on until the relief team came to swap with he and Kat. All he wanted to do was rinse off, lay down, and sleep then wake up and have a good hearty meal. It wasn't as if he were asking for the moon here but, in his line of work, he may as well have asked for the universe to revolve around him. However, above all that, he--more than anything--wanted to see Jean; or at least talk to him.

The last time Marco had spoken to his lover, it was Saturday evening and the conversation only lasted for a grand total of fifteen minutes. He could hear the strain and repressed anguish in Jean's voice; he could feel it when his words trembled before he hung up after cutting the conversation short. That was four days ago and it was killing Marco not knowing how he was doing, what he was thinking, and what he was feeling. 

It was torture not being able to see his face or that dazzling smile. It was crippling waking up from a two hour nap to the smell of smoke and the sight of grey plumes of ash soaring higher into the sky instead of waking up from a long rest to the scent mellow crisp scent that clung to Jean's skin before rolling over to see his features softened by the sleep that still loomed over him. God, what Marco would give just to reach out and touch him; to comb his fingers through that silky blonde hair while feeling his lovers hands gently pressed against his chest. He wanted to kiss him, hold him, love him and stay hidden under a mountain of blankets--just the two of them laughing like teenagers at how silly they were being and making love until they collapsed from exhaustion only to do it all over again. 

Marco missed Jean and he hoped that, despite the lack of communication, that Jean was missing him too. He didn't wish for him to be in pain of any sort but the brunette hoped that he was at least thinking about him; just a little even was good enough for him. He just wanted to know that he wasn't the only one feeling the pain of the separation and that he mattered. That wasn't too much, was it?

When the relief team arrived, Marco filled in his replacement--a firefighter by the name of Kaylin--before packing up his gear and hitching a ride back to command control. Pulling up to "nerve center" or the "Brain" as Connie called it, the brunette clapped hands with Mika and Burke who were about to go tap back in on the eastern head of the fire that had split at the seams a half hour ago. Following them were the hotshots Reiner, Bertolt, and Annie. It was any wonder how Annie and Mika were allowed to work on the same jobs since they were quite deep in their relationship and had just bought a small house together in the Topanga mountains. Chances were it probably had to do with their professionalism and how, while out in the field, they kept a lid on their emotions and personal interests.

Jerking his chin in silent recognition to the outgoing hotshots, the two best friends lugged themselves up the bus-size mobile housing unit the firefighters endearingly called "the box." Inside were relatively comfortable bunks to sleep in, a small shower to rinse off in, a toilet, and lockers to keep any personal items in. Because of a new regulation passed in the December ballot last voting season, firefighters were now allowed to carry their cellphones on them while on break. They still had to leave them at nerve center when they were out in the field but, because wildlands and IHC hotshots spent extended periods of time out in the thick of it, they could use their mobile devices during their rest hours.

After a quick shower, Marco dried off and slipped into his uniform; minus the heavy turnout gear that he'd put back on in two hours. Sighing happily as he stretched out on the bunk next to the one Kat was splayed out on--balls deep in a good dream and snoring like a slumbering bison, which was a feat considering her size--Marco pulled his phone out of his front pant pocket. When the screen lit up, he was greeted with the image of he had snuck of Jean sleeping on his chest the morning after they had made love for the first time. It was a perfect moment that seemed so far away yet still burned bright, like a massive star blinking in the distance of the night sky.

Glancing at the time, the brunette wondered if Jean was still up. He usually wasn't on call on Wednesday nights and it was well past seven-thirty. Opening up his favorites speed dial list, he pressed the number five which he had assigned to the intern. Clearing his throat, he lifted the phone to his ear and waited on pins and needles for a voice to answer on the other end.

\------------------------------------------------------

Jean had made it home about two hours ago but was hardly ready to go to bed; it was only seven-thirty after all and he didn't have work in the morning. So instead of sleeping, he showered, cleaned the dishes after making something to eat, and answered the emails from his mother. She and Grisha and Carla Jaeger were all on vacation together since they were all putting in too much time at Mount Sinai Hospital; his locations' sister institution in Manhattan, New York. Seeing the pictures she had sent him in the "wish you were here" email that had popped up two days ago made him homesick. 

Scrolling down the reel of images depicting Lillian swimming with tropical fish, lounging on the the beach with Carla, and shopping for baby clothes to send to his very pregnant sister Stella followed by a selfie of the three adults drinking cocktails out of tiki mugs, the young man couldn't help but smile and let out little spurts of laughter at how childlike his mother was. She was the exact opposite of him in the sense that, despite being a responsible adult when the moment called for it, she was usually more play than work. It was mind boggling how someone as wild as her could be the chief of cardiology back home when her idea of fun was downing three banana-orange daiquiri's before going swimming with pigs in the Bahamas.

It was just as he began to type out a reply to Lillian's question regarding his plans for the summer that Jean's phone went off. Glancing at the device that was vibrating across the bedroom on his nightstand, he wondered who'd be calling him at this hour. Almost everyone he knew was either at the hospital, fighting a fire, or, in his mothers' case, chilling with sand and sea loving swine. With a sigh, he got up and padded over to the phone that sat there, rattling against the wooden surface it was resting on. Unplugging the phone, he didn't even bother looking at the screen. Chances were it was someone trying to sell him something.

"Hello?" Jean said with a tired, potentially irritated drag to his tone.

"Jean?" Marco spoke from the other end; his voice sounding slightly apologetic. "Sorry, is this a bad time? I can call back later if--"

"No, no it's fine," the young man quickly assured his lover. Pausing for a moment, Jean chewed on his bottom lip while he rubbed the nape of his neck with his free hand. "I miss you," he said, seeing no point in playing coy. "I've been wondering when you'd call."

"I was thinking the same thing but I figured you'd been too busy," the brunette chuckled faintly.

"Sorry. I mean, I have been busy but I should have called. I didn't mean to get--"

"It's fine baby. You don't need to apologize or anything. We've both been working ourselves a bit much."

Walking quickly across the room, Jean saved the draft of his email to his mom before closing the laptop. "How are things over there?" he asked as returned to the bed and curled up against the mountain of pillows behind his back. "Mostly, how are you?"

"Things are alright, I guess. The burn is about seventy percent contained so I shouldn't be gone for too much longer."

"That's good. But what about you? How are you?"

There was a moment of silence followed by a short but heavy sigh. "I'm alright. Well, maybe. I don't know. I haven't really been able to sleep and the fire on the ridge I'm working on has been a hateful bitch because it keeps rekindling after we put it out."

"Maybe the debris and vegetation mixed in with the top soil has reached its ignition point."

Another sound, this time a long groan, escaped from Marco. "Fuck, you're probably right. I forgot about that when I kept trying to think of what could be causing the brush to catch again."

"You must be really tired to be missing things like that baby," Jean teased.

"I am, Jean," he said; his voice only a tremble and quiver away from being a whimper. "I'm tired and stressed out and everything hurts and all I want to do his take a long soak then fall asleep holding onto you. Fuck, I miss you so much."

Jean could feel a small smile working it's way across his face as he heard the other man name him off in the list of things he wanted. They really had become ingrained in the back of each others' minds during their short time together. But it didn't bother him like some thought it should. This pace suited their relationship just fine. What did it matter if they said "I love you" sooner rather than later?

"I miss you too babe," Jean spoke softly as he rubbed his feet against his clean cream colored flannel sheets. "I keep waking up every morning expecting to see you there. It's driving me crazy not having you around. So much has happened and I want to tell you about it but you're not here." It ridiculous that he'd cry at a moment like this but the tears were already starting their journey down his cheeks so why bother fighting it? "I've had so many weird patients and cases that I want to talk to you about and all the new hiking trails I found that I want to go to with you even though you've probably already been on them. I miss you so fucking much Marco and I want you to come home but you've got a job and it kills me that you're so good at what you do because it means seeing less of you."

The last series of words cut through Marco like a blade. 'So it's not just me?' he thought quietly with a pitiful laugh. Here, he had been afraid that the time apart may have caused Jean to lose interest in him. It wouldn't be the first time something like that had happened. Marco had been dropped by ex's for a multitude of reasons but one that kept on popping up was that he was "never around." And up until now, he had never really cared too much when someone broke up with him or neglected to call. But with Jean it was different.

Marco wanted to hear Jean's voice every day; morning, noon, night... It didn't matter when. He wanted to hear that voice, see those beautiful eyes, hold that perfect firm body in his arms and kiss those lips until he was drunk off the feeling. He wanted to listen to Jean talk about work, see the little smile he got whenever he secretly took pride in his work, and lace their fingers together while sitting on the couch watching the embers in the fireplace die down. Marco wanted to go home and be with the person he loved.

"I miss you too Jean. I'll be back soon though."

"You promise," the intern choked on his tears while trying to keep his voice as clear and level as possible. "Don't say it if you don't mean it."

Looking out the windows of the mobile unit, Marco surveyed the dying fire on the ridge in the distance. "Yeah, I promise. With the way things are looking right now, I should be home by Sunday."

"Really?"

Chuckling at the sudden chipperness of Jean's voice, Marco nodded while sinking lower into his bunk. "Looks like it. You happy?"

"Wildly."

"Good because I'm coming straight over the moment they dismiss my crew."

"You'd better," Jean laughed. Wiping the tears from his eyes with a small sniffle, he suddenly felt more at ease. "You sound tired. I'll let you go so you can catch some shut eye."

"It's alright. I've only got an hour or so left of my break since we're all working overtime."

"It doesn't matter Marco. You need to rest so that you're body has time to recharge and ready itself for the work ahead. Trust me on that one."

"Fine, since it's a doctor's order," he teased. Yawning over the receiver, Marco settled into a comfortable position with the phone wedged between his ear and the pillow. "Could you stay on the phone until I nod off?"

"If it'll help you sleep."

"It will. I like listening to your voice so you can pick anything and just talk about it."

"Okay," Jean said. Pausing to think, he immediately thought back to the hiking trails he had found a few days ago on his day off. "Hey, you still there?"

"Mhmm," the brunette hummed lazily.

It was criminal how adorable Marco was when he was tired. Even when he was hundreds of miles away, Jean could still see that childlike smile stretching across his lovers' face; he was probably stretched across his bed like some glutton cat lying in the afternoon sun. Shaking his head with a sigh, the intern slid under his blankets while curling up on his side. Listening closely for a moment, he could hear Marco's gentle breathing on the other end as he drifted in and out of dozing off. His heart fluttered when he heard the small whimper-like groan escape the other mans' lips before he called out to him to see if he was still there. If only they could be with each other right now, Jean would pull Marco close and kiss every inch of his face, neck, and shoulders until he reached the spot above his heart. There, the blonde would nuzzle in and claim it as his with a kiss before laying down to listen to that soothing steady rhythm. He missed him so much; much more than he'd ever let on.

"Hey Marco," Jean breathed. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"What's up love?"

"I love you so much and I can't wait to see you when you come home."

Smiling, Marco's eyes lit up when he heard Jean say 'home' as if they were already living together; as if they were a married couple. "I love you too Jean. I promise to be home soon okay so wait for me."

"I'll always wait for you Marco."

"Really?"

"Really really," Jean smirked. "You're my person. You know that right?"

Biting on his bottom lip, Marco rubbed a tear away from his eye. "I am?"

"Yeah, you are."

"You're my person too."

"Good."

"Good," the brunette beamed. The silence lingered for a moment more until Marco released a long yawn. "So I remember you saying something about wanting to tell me about these new trails you found. Any of them look promising?"

With a small smile, Jean laughed. "Yeah, a few."

They continued talking with Jean doing most of the work since Marco was supposed to only be listening. It wasn't long though until the brunette had fallen asleep. He had a full forty-eight hours and was feeling the weight of the last three weeks slowly come crashing down on him. Fighting fires was not only not for the faint of heart, but it wasn't for the weak-willed either. There was a lot more than physical fitness that went into making a good firefighter and Marco was one of the best. Between problem solving, troubleshooting, and crisis management all while leading a team and working against the elements as well as time, it was no wonder that he'd be exhausted.

Listening to the faint snoring on the other end, the intern remained silent while letting the sound fill his ears. It was so sweet--adorable, really--that even then in that kind of situation, Marco was still able to pass out so quickly; like blowing a candle out while it was already in the process of doing so of its own volition. Feeling the love swell in his chest, Jean lingered like that for a moment longer. Committing the small snores and little grunts and grumbles in his sleep to memory, the blonde knew it was time to hang up and let Marco get some well-earned rest.

"I love you Marco," Jean whispered into the phone. "Sleep well, stay safe out there, and come home to me because I'll be right here waiting for you."

Then, after sending a small kiss over the receiver to his slumbering lover, Jean hung up and relaxed into his own bed where he fell asleep soon after.

 

.............4 days until the crew comes home...............

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the road to writing this chapter, along with the task itself, was fairly arduous but not because I didn't enjoy it or have lost interest in the fic. More like I was struggling to find a way to put what I saw into words since I (and do not judge me here) usually have to dream about it before I know what to do. I literally see these things happen chapter by chapter which is why some take longer to write than others. But there are times when my dreaming mind needs a like shove in the right direction so here, from me to you, is my Brain Food Mood Music. 
> 
> I wanted to post this list in case there are other writers out there like me that are struggling to get back into the groove and need music to help them along. Don't worry, it's not always going to be this hard and don't feel pressured to perform because all things beautiful take time. Just relax and let the melody of a song carry you to where you want to go. <3
> 
>  
> 
> *In Retrograde With Mercury*
> 
> -"In My Dreams" by Ruth B.  
> -"Across The Ocean" by Azure Ray  
> -"Sleep" by Azure Ray  
> -"Passion" by Utada Hikaru  
> -"House By The Sea" by Iron & Wine  
> -"Neutral Ground" by Sea Wolf  
> -"Middle Distance Runner" by Sea Wolf  
> -"Beautiful Freak" by The Eels  
> -"Melody Of A Fallen Tree" by Windsor for the Derby  
> -"Xerces" by Deftones  
> -"Karma Police" by Radiohead  
> -"No Surprises" by Radiohead  
> -"Kid A" by Radiohead  
> -"Let Down" by Radiohead  
> -"Iron Lung" by Radiohead  
> -"Optimistic" by Radiohead  
> -"How To Disappear Completely" by Radiohead  
> -"Motion Picture Soundtrack" by Radiohead  
> -"Halo" by A Perfect Circle  
> -"Mutron Angel" by Outkast  
> -"Avenue Of Hope" by I Am Kloot  
> -"Buzzcut Season" by Lorde  
> -"Swingin' Party" by Lorde  
> -"Born To Die" by Lana Del Rey  
> -"China Girl" by Anna Ternheim  
> -"Bad In Each Other" by Feist  
> -"Comfort Me" by Feist  
> -"Pine Moon" by Feist  
> -"Service Bell" by Feist & Grizzly Bear  
> -"Feel Good Inc." by Gorillaz  
> -"O Green World" by Gorillaz  
> -"Tomorrow Comes Today" by Gorillaz  
> -"Every Planet We Reach Is Dead" by Gorillaz  
> -"Higher" by The Cardigans  
> -"Marvel Hill" by The Cardigans  
> -"Nil" by The Cardigans  
> -"Overnight (Le Chevalier d'Eon OST)" by Aya  
> -"Skeletons" by Yeah Yeah Yeahs


	6. Safe and Sound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco's team continues to grapple with the Gould "Back Break Ridge" Fire in the final days of its blaze when they find casualties on the decimated campground, Cedars-Sinai starts receiving burn victims--one being a child who was saved by a tall man that looked like Superman, and the team comes home...
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> READER ALERT!: Okay people, so this chapter is going to be a bit more graphic because, as I have said before, neither firefighting or surgery are pretty jobs. That means a Trigger Warning is in affect for burn related injuries, gore, blood, and child endangerment. It sounds horrible now but it's not that bad; trust me on this one, 'kay. But just be aware of these warnings and that they will be occurring throughout the chapter.

"Fucking hell, we've got reflash up here!" Mikasa shouted over her radio as she dodged a tongue of fire as it reached out to whip her. "I don't know 'bout you guys but I've just about had it with this fucking north face."

"Got you covered, M," Marlo responded immediately. "An air drop should be flying overhead in twenty."

"Thanks Tex," she answered before returning to work.

"Bott," the captain called over his radio--switching frequencies to contact his other squad leader. "How are things over on the western front?" When he didn't pick up, Marlo tried again with more urgency in his tone. "Marco, do you read me? Stop dicking around and answer? Come in."

"Sorry Tex, I read you," Marco called from the other end. "Arcadi and I were busy swamping and stomping out some rekindle. These winds are kicking our asses up here."

"Do you need an air drop? A bird is already circling M's location so it'll take 'bout a half hour for it to reload."

"Nah, we're good over here. We should have the burn out in an hour or two."

"Nice job kid," Marlo grinned as pride peppered his Texan twang. "What's your containment percentage?"

"Uhh, ninety percent give or take. The fucker keeps trying to bite back but Kat's been quick on the line so we've got it under control over here."

"Alright, well I'll see you back at base when you wrap things up."

"Amen to that," Marco chuckled. "See ya' in a bit cap."

"Right. Keep your head down and get back safe."

After his two squad leaders had confirmed their positions so that he could mark them down on the map spread over the large wooden picnic table, Marlo called the IHC team over the radio. The Back Break Ridge Fire--as it had come to be called by the firefighters--was proving to be more stubborn than they had anticipated. It had more bite in it and a tendency to rekindle in the rapid ignition zones on the ridgeline where the Santa Ana winds were hitting the hardest. It was impossible to get a read on the damn thing the first week out there because the winds kept changing its' course. One moment, the burn would be heading southwest, then it'd change to south and then southeast. But they were finally closing in on the monsters' head after three and a half weeks of blood, sweat, and tears.

Radioing Reiner, the squad leader for the Los Angeles hotshot team that was assisting, Marlo gave them the heads up on the drop that would be circling overhead in another minute. After the man responded, confirming that he could see the inbound plane approaching their position, the Texan called up Annie's group of three and let her know that a super-scooper was twenty minutes out. He could hear how relieved both she and Krista sounded when they gave a woot in reply. It had been a long month and everyone wanted to go home. And with the blaze burning down, they'd be able to pack up and bounce after searching the surrounding campgrounds for any injured civilians.

"How's it coming along Tex?" called Keith Shadis, the bear of a commander for the LA IHC hotshots. "Anything good?"

Clapping hands with his fellow firefighter, Marlo grinned with a nod. "How goes it man? Haven't seen your sorry ass runnin' 'round base for the last two days. Where've you been?"

"I was checking in on the kids spraying down the northern ridge."

"You know that's my jurisdiction, right?"

"Yeah, but Lenz and Leonhart are up there with Springer and Ackerman."

"You know I'm just fuckin' with you Keith," Marlo chuckled as he turned back to the map spread out before him--marked in multiple spots with red dots for "active fires", yellow for "dying", green for "dead", and black for "reflash prone." Eyeing the numbers for each dot, the grin on his face grew. "So I've got news for ya'."

"Yeah? And?"

"We could have this burn out by tonight. We just need to keep hammering it with water drops and make sure we're turnin' over the dirt wherever we can to cool the top soil before it reflashes."

"Really?" Shadis said, his brows furrowed as if he didn't believe the captain. Leaning over the map with one arm propping him up for support, his piercing hazel eyes bored into the thick paper. "Well I'll be damned."

"I know," Marlo nodded with a short laugh. "Hell, I'll be singing Dixie out my ass if this ain't wrapped up before sun up tomorrow."

"Do you want to call the district leader or do we want to wait until we finally put it out?" Shadis asked as the young captain looked back at the spread. When he didn't answer the older man pushed with, "It's your call Tex."

"Let's wait. I don't want us confirming anything until this sucker's out. I never count my eggs before they hatch 'cause you could always get a snake in the bunch."

\------------------------------------------------------------------

The sun was dipping below the horizon as the hotshots and wildlands crews converged on the stubborn northern head of the blaze. While Connie and Mika swamped the dead or burnt turf that could rekindle, Reiner and his team expanded the fire break to five yards. Both groups had been going at it all day with little to no relief. However, since there were only fifteen acres left to go and the winds were dying down, the additional support from Santa Clarita and San Bernadino were released for the remainder of the fight. Now it was just the IHC and the 82 crew tasked with finishing the job.

Taking a breather from the sixteen hour shift he was working through, Marco leaned against the engine parked on the forested path that served as their satellite base of operations. Fatigued and filthy from the soot and dirt kicked up by the winds, he was more than ready to go home. And from the progress they were making, chances were that tomorrow would be their last day up there. It had been a long arduous battle--like pushing a boulder uphill in the rain--but they were hours away from putting the burn out.

With a tired sigh, the burnt out brunette cracked his neck, rolled his shoulders, and twisted his spine to work out the kinks that had been dogging him all day. Bending over, he took the remaining water in his bottle and dumped it on his head. Splashing at the nape of his tanned neck, it worked through his wavy chestnut brown hair to both cool him down and wash away the sweat and grime that had clung to the fine strands. He couldn't wait to get home, take a long shower, and see Jean. Every time he closed his eyes he'd see the mans' soft smile and glittering honey eyes. It was such a beautiful dream, he'd rather stay asleep than wake up to the hellish job that laid ahead of him. It was the first time Marco couldn't find the enthusiasm to go to work. He knew it was because he was lovesick but he had to wonder, would this become a regular thing.

As he stood there with water dripping from his hair while he pondered his priorities, Kat came stomping up the road. Stopping a couple feet away from her partner, the woman removed her helmet and shook the ash from her gear like a dog shaking water off its coat. Huffing air upward to push the sweaty bangs away from her pixie-esque face, the blonde slumped against the fire engine next to Marco. She released a deep sigh with both her hazel eyes staring up at the darkening sky that was streaked with light grey plumes of smoke from the dying fire.

"Fuck, I can't wait to go home," she groaned. Rotating her left shoulder then her right until they popped, the woman snuck a peek at Marco when he didn't reply. "You alright there sweetlove? I hope you ain't goin' all Rain Man on me," Kat chuckled as she bent over to assess at her partners' face.

"I'm fine," he rasped; voice now gruff from the smoke and exhaustion. Righting himself, the brunette ran a hand through his hair to push it back. "I was just thinking."

"About your boy, huh," Kat stated knowingly. "I'm sure he's doing fine. Just focus on getting the job done then you'll be home and fuckin' each other boneless in no time."

Chuckling, Marco pressed his head against the engine. "Is that all you think about?"

"Yeah, about seventy percent of the time. I like fucking. Ain't no shame in that."

"True."

"So," the blonde paused, a devilish smile working its way across her soot stained face. "Was he any good? You guys did it, right? Were you on top or was he? He looks like he could do either."

"Jesus Kat, calm down."

"Babe, I haven't gotten any in almost four weeks because Marlo interrupted me just as I was gettin' to it with Josie. Help a girl out will ya'?"

Sighing heavily, he scolded himself internally for what he was about to do because Lord knows his shy lover would kill him if he found out.

"You can't tell anyone else about this and definitely not Jean," Marco warned.

"I won't."

"Promise me, Kat."

"Oh come on, don't you trust me?"

"No," he said flatly.

"Fine, I won't tell a soul about it."

Looking her in the eyes with a scrutinizing gaze, he didn't relent until he was happy with what he saw.

"We had sex," Marco admitted then winced when Kat shrieked with glee. "Fuck, could you not blow my ear drums out?"

"Sorry, I'm sorry. I'll calm down," the blonde grinned wildly; almost bouncing in place. "Keep going. Did he top or did you? Was it good?"

"It was pretty mind blowing actually. He wanted me to top and fuck, he was so good," the brunette groaned when the memory came flooding back. "It was like we had done it before. He knew exactly how to set me off and that smile of his and the way he looked at me..."

"Sounds like a real stallion. I knew he'd be good the moment I saw him in the bar."

"He was more than good. I get goosebumps thinking about it Kat. And the way he kisses me; no one's ever kissed me like that. He's perfect. Almost too perfect."

"Man," Kat gawked; her expression turning from excitement to astonishment. "You're in love with him, aren't you."

Without any hesitation, Marco nodded. "I am. I'm so in love with him, I can't help myself. He's all in my head, Kat."

"Have you told him?" When her partner answer with a silent nod, the dots finally connected. "So that's why he was a mess when you left. Fuck, that's adorable," she said almost to herself.

"Well, it's only part of the reason. He's afraid I'll get snuffed like his father did."

"His old man was a firefighter?"

"You remember that massive fire in Yosemite ten years ago?"

Furrowing her brow, Kat paused for a moment trying to remember which burn he was talking about. "You mean the Twin River Fire or the Storm Ridge Fire?"

"Storm Ridge," Marco said.

"Shit, everyone remembers that one. It took out an entire team and two hot--," she stopped mid-sentence when it all fell into place. Whipping her head around to look at Marco, her heart dropped and her eyes swam with heartbreak. "Oh no, don't tell me...."

Nodding with his lips in a flattened line, Marco felt his chest tighten. "His father was Gabe Kirstein. He was the guy that died saving three other firefighters and was cornered by the burn when they got separated."

"Shit..."

"Tell me about it. I don't even know how he has the courage to date someone in the same line of work as his dad but I'm grateful he does."

"It's because he loves you," Kat stated matter-of-factly. "You can't argue with love. It just does whatever the fuck it wants. God damn, he's seriously Gabe's kid?"

"Hard to believe isn't it. Keith tells us about him all the time like he was some god. It's weird though because Jean doesn't talk about him at all."

"Probably because it's too hard. He did go down in a pretty gnarly way."

"Yeah..."

The pair was silent for a long minute as they recalled the story of the brave hotshot that had risked his life for his comrades. They remembered watching the funeral procession on television with Gabe's casket at the front of the line adorned in an American flag and a massive wreath of roses. Marching solemnly alongside the black lacquered pine box was the mans' grieving widow who was too young to be wearing black and their two teenage children; a girl with platinum blonde hair and a sad flaxen haired boy. Marco remembered seeing the young man on screen and wondering if he'd be alright. There had been a great many times when he himself could have lost either of his parents--or both since they usually worked together. But Marco had been lucky. He had never experienced loss or had to identify his fathers' charred remains. He had never lost sleep wishing for his old man to come home only to have to remind himself that that would never happen. But Jean had.

Jean had lost his father in one of the worst ways possible because he put the lives of others before himself. The man was a hero and died for it which was exactly what the young intern was afraid of happening a second time. Marco had seen the fear in his eyes and heard the trembling in his voice. It was cruel the way fate had brought Jean face to face with his greatest fear and forced him to fall in love with it. He had already been through enough and deserved all the happiness he could sap out of life. And it was because of that that Marco promised not to be a hero and take unnecessary risks that would put him in jeopardy. Jean deserved that; he had earned it with the suffering he had endured.

"Ground leader, this is Eagle One, do you copy?" sounded a voice over Marco's radio.

"This is Ground Leader Bott," the brunette confirmed. "What can I do you for?"

"We got eyes on a civilian in the burn zone down by the campgrounds."

Knitting his brows together, Marco called back. "You sure about that? The boys from the Santa Clarita station were supposed to have cleared it out."

"I'm circling above the kid right now. It's a male civilian, probably an adolescent between the ages of eight and ten. They're waving at me right now."

"Is it just the one?"

"From what I can see, yes but they look like they're pointing toward the outhouses. I think there may be a second camper."

"Fuck," Marco growled when he heard the reply. Slamming his head back against the engine, he closed both his eyes with a heavy sigh. "What's your position?"

"One kilometer south of the northwest end of the Gabrieleno Trail before it splits into Mesa Neck. We need immediate assistance from a two man crew. A pelican is on its way to clear the path. ETA is ten minutes. Can you respond?"

Biting his bottom lip, Marco whispered an apology to Jean then held down the reply button on his comm. "Copy that, I'm sending a two man crew right now. The firefighters names are Arcadi, Kat and Bott, Marco. ETA to civilian, eleven minutes."

"Copy. I'll relay the message to the dropper and HQ."

Turning to look at his partner, who sighed with an knowing yet still peeved expression, the brunette pushed away from the fire engine. "Grab your irons and let's get going."

"And you promised him you wouldn't be a hero," Kat scoffed jokingly as she shoved away from the truck. "Fucking Greek tragedy over here."

\------------------------------------------------------------------

It wasn't a terribly difficult hike down to the campgrounds. Or at least it wouldn't have been if the trail wasn't obscured by smoke and if the two firefighters weren't carrying an added twenty-five pounds on top of the usual forty-five they lugged around all day. Night had already fallen which meant their eyes in the sky were operating off of searchlights and prayer power. Breathing heavily under the protective veil of his face guard, Marco coughed then winced from the sudden unexpected twinge of pain radiating from his ribs.

"Fuck," he growled sharply.

"What's wrong?" Kat asked, stopping in place next to him.

"My ribs. I think I pulled them again."

"Shit."

"Yeah."

"You wanna stop? We could call in another team."

"No," he hissed as he stood back up, his protesting ribs taking the full weight of his pack. "That kid won't last long enough with the smoke being as thick as it is now and it's going to be worse when that bird drops its load to clear the path in."

"But you can't carry another person on you Marco," Kat snapped, grabbing him by the arm. Despite the face guard muffling her voice, he could still hear the fight in her words. "You could get yourself killed like that. For fuck's sake listen!"

"And a child and a second civilian could die if we don't keep moving!" Marco shouted back. "I have my turnout gear and an emergency pod if something happens but the kid doesn't. He could be choking on smoke right now so every second we spend arguing over my choices, the less of a chance that kid has. Got it?"

"Yeah I got it," Kat growled with venom dripping from her words. "I'm telling Ymir when we get back though and you are NOT stopping me. I'll fucking hog tie your dumb ass and throw you in the back of my car if you try to weasel your way out of this."

"Whatever. Let's just get moving."

Taking the next left, they turned down onto a sheltered trail that bordered the river that ran through the canyon. A couple minutes later they were met with a wall of fire that ate away at the trees, bushes, and grass that had once decorated the forest interior. Crackling with wild pop's as branches died and fell from their hosts' bodies, the blaze grew in height and brightness. Feeling the waves of heat wafting over them, Marco and Kat held their position until they heard the sound of a large plane flying in.

Knowing that the steam from the water hitting the fire could scald them worse than the blaze itself, the partners' turned their backs to the burn as the pelican dropped its' payload on the scene. In an flash, there was a mighty roar and push of heated air as the water made contact. Next was the wall of hot boiling steam. Waiting only seconds, the squad leader was the first to turn back around. Shuddering as the steam stung his cheeks until they were painted pink, he boldly and fearlessly jogged forward when the sound of a child coughing in the distance caught his attention. 

Dodging falling tree limbs, floating embers, and jets of steam as wet branches snapped and exposed their smoldering insides to moisture, Marco kept his eyes trained on the trail ahead. Smoke billowed around him and ash fell in thick clots of black and grey soot. Every footstep was marked in the scorched earth and echoed in the quiet barren landscape. The only sounds to accompany them were the crackling of breaking wood, and Kat's deep breaths in and out as she trailed close behind him.Turning on his headlamp while simultaneously clipping his flashlight to his utility belt, Marco's heart raced when he heard the strained voice cry out for help.

"Someone!" shouted a young boy in the clearing. Coughing violently, he cried, "Somebody help! Please, anybody help!"

"There he is," Marco called back to Kat. Looking ahead, he entered the clearing. "Stay where you are kid, we're coming!"

With a sudden jolt of energy, Marco's pace quickened and his stride grew. Jumping over smoldering logs, burnt camping supplies and the charred body of a deer, the firefighter came to a skidding halt at the kids side. Much to his relief, the boy wasn't severely harmed, physically; just minor second degree burns that would heal with time. However, he was coughing like the plague was upon him and his voice was weak from the strain. The boys' eyes had also gone red from the smoke and were tearing up which wasn't helped when he tried wiping the dampness away with his ash covered hands.

"Whoa now kid, let's keep your fingers away from your face," Marco said; his voice taking on a kinder, softer tone. Pulling a clean cloth from his emergency rucksack, the squad leader poured water onto the fabric then started wiping the ash from his face revealing shocking blue eyes and blonde eyebrows. "There we go. How's that?"

Blinking twice, the kid sniffled with a small nod. "Better."

"Good," the brunette smiled back while calmly pulling out an oxygen unit and strapping the mask to the kids' face. "This is going to help with that cough. Can you take a deep breath for me?"

Breathing in then out once Marco had told him it was okay, the child repeated the exercise three more times until his cough had gone from erratic to minimal. As the kid calmed down, the brunette dusted the ash off his fair hair, his letterman style NASA jacket, and inspected his exposed skin for any injuries or burns. When he was satisfied, Marco released a soft sigh.

"What's your name?" the man asked.

"Alvin," the boy pouted as he fussed with the straps around his face.

"Alvin? Well my name is Marco."

"That's a funny name."

"Yeah, it's pretty weird, huh. How old are you Alvin?" As the brunette asked, Kat wrote down the kids' information on a tag that would later accompany him to the hospital for treatment.

"Seven and a half," Alvin answered. "How old are you?"

"I'll be twenty-nine in two weeks."

"You're old!"

Snorting a laugh, Marco nodded. "Oh yeah, I'm old."

"You're so old, you're like a dinosaur." Pausing when the radio on the squad leaders shoulder sounded with a confirmation for an evac, the boys' eyes went wide. "Who was that?" he beamed.

"That's the pilot from the plane that's flying over us right now," said the brunette as he pointed up at the night sky. "Hey Alvin, the man in the plane told me you were pointing at something while you were calling for help. Is there anyone else here?"

"My mom but she fell asleep in the bathroom over there," he answered, turning just enough to point to the outhouse in the near distance. "She told me to stay in mine but when I heard the airplane I thought I should call for help."

Looking at Kat who nodded without saying a word, Marco remained calm as he thought of a way to keep the boys' attention while his partner went to retrieve the child's mother. If she had passed out, her chances of survival were low and even slimmer if she had been passively inhaling smoke for longer than ten minutes. However, Marco's heart sank when Kat removed the woman's pale stiff body from the outhouse. There was no way she could be alive; all the color had gone from her. When his partner removed her helmet and pressed her ear to the mothers' chest only to sit up with a somber shake of the head, he knew that she had passed. Taking a deep breath when the kid wasn't looking, Marco steeled himself for any possible questions.

"What's your friend doing to my mom?" Alvin asked innocently.

"She's just telling your mom to stay still until help comes. She doesn't want her to get hurt so she's asking her to stay asleep."

"But what if she doesn't wake up? How can we get away from the fire if mom doesn't get up?"

"That's what we have an evacuation team for. They're going to fly in on a helicopter, pick you guys up, and then take you to the hospital."

"Both of us?"

Gazing into the child's wide questioning blue eyes, Marco almost choked on his words. "Both of you," he smiled as the boys' face lit up. 

Glancing upward as the sound of whirlwind blades and a speaker turning on came within an earshot, the brunette flinched as a spotlight shined down on them. Straining his eyes to see past the sudden onslaught of halogen illumination, Marco placed his hands over Alvin's ears and turned his face inward to protect his eyes from the swirling ash and debris. Repelling down from the helicopter was a search and rescue medic officer. Making a bee-line for the child, the woman assessed the boy and asked for the card Kat had filled out. Handing the officer Alvin's information card, Marco sat the boy down--telling him to keep his eyes closed and ears covered--then rose to speak with the woman.

"We found his mother in the outhouse," he said trying to keep his voice as low as possible while still being loud enough for the medic to hear. "She's out," he motioned with a hand cutting across his neck while putting emphasis on the last word.

Nodding, the woman looked between the boy and his deceased mother. "We'll transport her in the usual manner. What did you tell the kid?"

"That she's asleep."

"Right. Thanks for the heads up."

As the medic returned to the drop-site and gesture for two stretchers to be lowered, Marco turned back to the child. Sitting down next to him, he kept the boy nestled against him in a protective manner while rubbing his back. He had gone through enough for one day and it wasn't going to get better anytime soon once he found out that his mother wasn't actually asleep. After Kat had placed the young woman's body on the stretcher, the line pulled as she drifted upward. True to her word, the medic acted as if the dead woman were still alive, strapping an oxygen mask to her face and everything. The only difference was that the feed was off so that they didn't waste any precious O2 on someone that couldn't be saved. Watching the second stretcher as it was being lowered, Marco lowered his head to the boys' level.

"Okay Alvin, it's time to get you out of here."

Shaking his head, the child gripped tighter onto the squad leaders' jacket. "I don't want to."

"It's not safe here kiddo. Don't worry, you'll be fine."

"But you're not coming with me," Alvin sniffled past a hiccup. "I don't like flying. It's scary."

"It won't be scary because this nice lady right here is going to be with you the whole time," Marco said gently as he nodded to the woman at his side. "She's a firefighter too but she has a very special job. My job is to put out the fire and find people. Her's is to help the people I find and take them somewhere safe."

"Really? So the plane won't crash?"

Shaking his head, the brunette smirked. "It won't crash."

"Promise."

"I promise. Cross my heart."

Pouting, the kid lifted his hand with all the fingers down except for his pinky. "Pinky promise?"

"Yeah," Marco affirmed, hooking his glove pinky with the child's. "Pinky promise."

"Okay, I'll go."

"Okay."

Noticing how attached the boy had become, Marco picked him up and walked them over to the stretcher. He didn't want to risk a panic attack or a tantrum so the brunette did the medics job for her and strapped the kid in while telling him he'd come visit him at the hospital. Waving his goodbye, he laughed as the boy shouted "thanks for saving me" loud enough that they could hear it over the whirlwind. Once he was safely on board, the medic shook Kat and Marco's hand before clipping in to the line as her teammate hauled her up into the hovering craft.

Flinching again as the helicopter turned tail and left in a huff, the two firefighters stood there waiting for their vision to adjust. As they did, a low breeze rolled in carrying on it the smell of the dying fire. There was something distinct in the way smoke smelled once the source had been put out. It was softer and had less grit to it.

"You know," Kat mused with her eyes on the slowly vanishing helicopter. "That kid is going to write you up to be some hero."

"Really? I don't feel like much of one," the brunette answered honestly; he too looking up at the clearing night sky. "I feel like an asshole for lying because it's only going to hurt more when he's told his mother's dead."

"Marco--"

"We should get going. It's late and we need to fill out the paperwork for this back at base."

Catching on that he didn't want to talk about it anymore, Kat sighed. "Yeah, let's go. I call the shower when we get back."

"Fine. Marlo will probably be throwing forms at me when we pull up anyways."

"Crazy-ass Texan," the blonde snorted a laugh. "Right, well, let's get going while the gettin' is good."

\----------------------------------------------------------------------

The patient flow had been steady all day with the usual freak case sprinkled in here and there yet it was nothing the interns weren't prepared for. However, in the last hour of his shift, burn victims from the Gould "Back Break Ridge" Fire began to arrive. There were cases as minor and heat blisters to more severe trauma incidents like the man who had impaled himself on a jagged branch while running away from the blaze. As the patients rolled in, Levi and Ymir began delegating. Jean and Eren paired up to handle the people coming in to the ER while Lenore and Sasha ran charts. Since Armin was a second year intern and, therefor, had more experience, he scrubbed in with Eld--the trauma surgeon--on the first case. It was similar to the triage they had weathered a month ago but now they knew what to look out for.

Operating on autopilot, Jean sorted and evaluated the new patients being admitted. Some cases looked good while others were less fortunate. A family of campers came in, all looking fine, until the intern saw the deep burns on the sons' back and the gash on the mothers' stomach. Another group, this time a couple on their anniversary trip, was brought in for second degree burns and minor lacerations to the face and arms. It seemed like no one in that immediate area was able to get out without some kind of injury.

Just as he had finished the paper work for an elderly woman that had been walking her dog along the trail when she had gotten caught in the blaze, the blonde was called to assist on the helicopter pad. Following Levi and Eren, it was like deja vu all over again. Hopefully, this time nobody would clock his friend in the head; or himself for that matter. Bracing themselves as the craft landed, their attending was first to move when he stepped forward to meet the medic as they sprang out from the chopper.

"Patient's name is Alvin Hale, age seven. Patient has minor cuts to his legs, scorching of the lungs and trachea from smoke inhalation, and minor cuts to the cornea. Patients mother was DOA. He still thinks she's sleeping," the medic said, almost muttering the last part. She had become rather fond of the boy during their flight and, just like the firefighter that had found him, she didn't want to break the kids heart.

Nodding, Levi switched into 'kid-friendly mode' and put on his kindest smile. "Hey there Alvin, how are you feeling?" he asked while pulling out his stethoscope as they began moving toward the elevator.

"Good. Who are you?"

"My name's Levi and I'm the doctor that'll be looking after you. Is that okay?" When the child nodded, the surgeon smirked. "Awesome. These two young men will be helping me out to make sure you get better."

"Hey there, I'm Eren," the young brunette beamed; reaching out to shake the kids hand. "I hope we can be friends."

"Yeah," Alvin smiled.

"I'm Jean," the other intern said with an equally friendly expression. "Nice to meet you Alvin."

Shaking his hand, the boy giggled. "You got a funny name. The firefighter that found mom and I had a funny name too but yours is sillier."

"Oh yeah," Jean playfully arched a single brow as they entered the elevator; the doors closing behind them with a 'ding.' "What was his name? It must have been pretty weird."

"He said it was Marco. He looked really goofy too because he had little brown spots all over his face and his hair was all wavy too," laughed the child while moving his hands to illustrate how crazy the mans hair was.

Choking on the air in his lungs, the intern froze for a moment before returning back to his usual self. "You're right. That is a funny name. And brown spots? Sounds like a leopard or something."

"Maybe he's a superhero and saves people from fires but has to wear dots on his face to hide from the bad guys," Alvin pondered. Suddenly, an excited spark flickered in the boy's blue eyes. "Oh! What if he's Superman?!"

Coughing on a laugh, Levi tried his best not to look like an asshole. "He could be. But if he is, you can't tell anyone Alvin."

"I won't. I promise."

"Good," Eren smiled as they exited the elevator and entered the less hectic wing of the emergency and trauma ward. "I'm sure he'll be very grateful to you."

"Eren, take Alvin to room 108 for an evaluation," Levi spoke while pulling Jean to the side. Noticing the worrisome expression in the child's eyes, the surgeon smiled. "I'll be right back. I just need to talk to my friend and then I'll come back inside."

When the kid beamed back at him, the dark-haired man waited for the stretcher to be wheeled around the corner before he pulled the intern into an empty small meeting room. Allowing Jean to catch his breath, Levi kept an eye out for any prying eyes. Behind him, the blonde was struggling to get his lungs to work properly. He thought he had gotten used to the pain hearing his name caused but that was an unexpected blow. The brief calls and texts helped but nothing compared to being able to hold his lover close. He missed him so bad and the numbing ache in his chest intensified with every passing hour.

"Are you alright to keep going or did you want to head home?" Levi asked, shoving both his hands into his lab coat. "You're almost off anyways."

"Ymir would kill me if I bailed on everyone right now," Jean sighed heavily; his voice husky and jagged from the emotional turmoil he had just been flung into, head first.

"She won't if I'm the one that sent you home. Seriously kid, get out of here. You've been going at it for the past forty-eight hours."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. Now beat it before you're moping pisses me off."

Chuckling, Jean stood and gave Levi a gentle punch to the shoulder. "Thanks Levi."

"Whatever. You'll be working a double on Monday," the surgeon retorted though not without the faintest smirk. "Get some sleep Kirstein. You've earned it."

\---------------------------------------------------------------

Once he was home, Jean felt the energy leave his body, one limb at a time. Sinking into the couch after he had started drawing water for a bath, a peaceful silence fell over the space. He hadn't had a moment to kick his feet up for the past sixteen hours and had been even longer since he had cleaned up and relaxed. Breathing out, his head jerked forward when the doorbell sounded. Sitting up, the intern stared at the oak slab for a long moment before there came a knock.

"Maybe it's Eren," he muttered to himself.

Grunting as he stood, Jean stretched his arms while walking over to the main entrance. On the way there, he noticed that both Eren's car keys and house keys were gone so it couldn't have been him. Now confused and on guard, the young man approached the door with trepidation. Wondering if he should grab the baseball bat they kept by the coat rack, Jean shook the idea from his head. A burglar wouldn't ring the doorbell then follow it up with a knock. Or maybe they would if they wanted to see if anyone's home. 'But they can see my car in the driveway,' he thought quietly. Whoever it was, they were interrupting Jean's evening.

"Hello?" he said blindly as he opened the door. When the young man looked up, his gaze was met by a pair of familiar brown eyes. "Marco?" Jean breathed.

"Hey," Marco said while attempting a smile. "Is now a bad time?"

Appraising his lover, he wanted to cry when he saw how worn out he looked. "No," the blonde answered. Reaching out, he collected the man before him into a warm hug. "Now is fine."

Wrapping his arms around the person he had been dreaming of and missing like flowers missing the sun, Marco broke down. All those days, those long relentless weeks and hateful hours spent pushing back a rampant fire, and now he was finally home. At long last, he was where he belonged and it was too much. Crying against Jean's shoulder, the brunette felt like he would collapse. His limbs ached from the seemingly endless battle that had just been won. They screamed out for him to stop moving; to fall to his knees and pass out right then and there from exhaustion because his mind was a total mess too.

For the past three and a half weeks, he had been facing down a force that wouldn't cooperate while stepping over the burnt carcasses of wild animals that hadn't made it out in time. But what had been the cherry on top was the survivors that had been found earlier that evening. After aiding Alvin, Marco was called to assist with another retrieval when Annie and Krista's team had gotten a call from their eyes in the sky about a couple of injured hikers five minutes away from his location. One of them didn't make it; a branch to the gut is a hard thing to bounce back from. But the mans' friend had lived and was set to make a full recovery after a skin graft to his right arm and shoulder.

Pulling Jean closer, Marco sobbed while struggling to keep his balance. Knowing all too well what he was going through, the young man rubbed soothing circles into his back with one hand while the other cupped the nape of his neck; the thumb stroking the skin gently. Kissing his temple, Jean held his Superman tight. He was a hero alright; saving others without any fear for his own life then returning home to weep about not being able to reach everyone in time. A silly altruistic superhero but still his.

"Come on," Jean cooed with another kiss, now to the brunette's cheek. "I've got the bath going. Sound good?"

Wiping the tears from his face with the ball of his palm, Marco nodded. "Mhmm."

Taking Marco's hand in his with a loving smile, Jean led him through the house, down the hallway, and into the bathroom. Despite having hated the idea of having a clawfoot tub since they were too busy to use it most of the time, the blonde was happy Eren had convinced him to buy one. The bath was big enough that both he and Marco would be able to fit in it comfortably and deep enough that their top halves wouldn't freeze in the cool evening air coming in from the window.

Closing the door behind them, the young man turned around and began removing his lover's clothes. It was such a delicate moment with nothing but love between them. He remembered how Marco had done the same for him a month and a half ago when he had appeared on the mans' doorstep after the triage. Slipping his hoodie off, Jean smiled when the brunette lifted his arms to allow his lover to pull his shirt up and over his head. Once he had, Marco removed Jean's t-shirt and belt; his eyes never once leaving his face.

There was a long pause when the blonde slipped Marco's jeans off of his hips followed quickly by his underwear. Now bare and vulnerable once more to each other, Jean brought his partner in for a long adoring kiss. Sighing into it, he wrapped both arms around the other mans' neck. He loved how warm Marco's skin felt against his. How sweet his tongue tasted as it rolled over his and searched his mouth. How gently his calloused hands trailed down his sides as if they were mapping it. How comforting his scent was--a dizzying mix of sandalwood and campfire. He loved him so deeply, it were as if nothing else mattered in that moment. The world outside could be falling to the ground but right now, they were together.

Sliding into the tub first, Jean let the brunette settle between his legs so that he could rest his back against him. They didn't talk for a long moment. They didn't have to. The two men had become so accustomed to each other--even with the distance between them--that they could feel what the other was thinking. Leaning forward at Jeans' request, Marco grabbed the shampoo bottle. Laughing when the blonde started lathering up his unruly hair, the brunette relaxed into the gentle prodding and rubbing on his scalp. He had never been with anyone who would do such a thing for him. It was so simple yet entirely intimate. Closing his eyes as Jean rinsed the soap from his hair, a genuine look of peace painted his features.

"I love you Jean," Marco said, his voice still scratchy from the smoke, as he rested his head back on his lovers' shoulder.

Wrapping his arms around his stomach, Jean kissed Marco's ear with a smile then nuzzled against his cheek. "I love you too Marco. It's good to have you home."

"Did you miss me?"

Shaking his head, the young man took in a deep breath; savoring the smell of Marco's skin. "More than you'll ever know."

"I missed you too," the brunette confessed as he lifted Jean's fair hand to his lips and kissed the smooth back of it. "I dreamt about you every night."

He didn't know what to say so, instead of talking, Jean turned Marco's face to the side so that he could kiss him. It wasn't the hungry burning embrace from the night they had first made love or the shy kiss from the evening they had met at Casey's. This was something filled with a mutual love and affection built off of trust. This was something real yet felt like pure magic from the way it made Jean's heart flutter.

After another twenty minutes in the water, the two got out and dried off. Rubbing a towel over Marco's soft silky chestnut hair, Jean kissed the top of his head with a contented sigh. It was almost sickening how sweet they were together; how domesticated they had become despite having been separated for so long. Making short business of changing into their sleepwear, the young man hesitated before he crawled into bed. Committing the image of Marco wearing his clothes while in his bed to memory, Jean smiled as he turned off the lights and joined his lover beneath the duvet.

Tangling their legs together while Jean wrapped both his arms around his lovers' frame, the two men fell into a comfortable state; half awake, half asleep. Smoothing the hair away from his adorably freckled face, the young man kissed Marco's forehead; unable to stop himself from doing so even if he had tried. Then, trailing down to kiss his eyes, nose, and cheeks, Jean laughed quietly as did his partner. Showering him with all the affection he had saved up for the past month, the intern paused with his lips a fraction of an inch from the brunettes.

"I love you Marco," Jean whispered then sealed it with a kiss.

"I love you Jean," Marco smiled, then, after a long yawn, kissed his cheek. "Night love."

Nuzzling into his fluffy hair, the blonde breathed out softly as both his eyes closed. "Night."

............0 days until the crew comes home............

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, once again, this is an inspiration setlist. I've been having a little bit of trouble writing these chapters the more I read up about firefighting because it is so intense; I'm not kidding guys, they've kinda got it rough. But I love this fic so much that I've set up immersion playlists to get the creative waters going so here, from me to you, is the first of three inspiration sets.
> 
> *The Wildlands*
> 
> -"Come Away To The Water" by Maroon 5 feat. Rozzi  
> -"Safe & Sound" by Taylor Swift feat. The Civil Wars  
> -"Atlas" by Coldplay  
> -"Mutron Angel" by Outkast  
> -"Avenue Of Hope" by I Am Kloot  
> -"Summer Skin" by Death Cab For Cutie  
> -"Blame It On The Tetons" by Modest Mouse  
> -"Satin In A Coffin" by Modest Mouse  
> -"The Lightning Strike" by Snow Patrol  
> -"The Water And The Blood" by Sojourn  
> -"Kuruman" by Hans Zimmer  
> -"King George Appears" by Hans Zimmer  
> -"Nullah Enchants Sarah" by Hans Zimmer  
> -"When The Levee Breaks" by Led Zeppelin  
> -"Savin' Me" by Nickleback  
> -"City Of Devils" by Yellowcard  
> -"Buzzcut Season" by Lorde  
> -"Swinging Party" by Lorde  
> -"St. Jude" by Florence + The Machine  
> -"I'll See You Soon" by Coldplay  
> -"Made Of Stone" by Matt Corby  
> -"Comfort Me" by Feist  
> -"Pine Moon" by Feist  
> -"Service Bell" by Feist & Grizzly Bear  
> -"Yet Again" by Grizzly Bear  
> -"Slow Life" by Grizzly Bear  
> -"The River" by Josh Kempen  
> -"Beneath The Sun" by Josh Kempen  
> -"Pistol" by Josh Kempen  
> -"Ankala" by Sierra Leone's Refugee All Stars  
> -"Blood Diamonds Titles" by James Newton Howard & Pete Anthony  
> -"Goodbyes" by James Newton Howard & Pete Anthony  
> -"G8 Conference" by James Newton Howard & Pete Anthony  
> -"I Can Carry You" by James Newton Howard & Pete Anthony  
> -"Solomon Vandy" by James Newton Howard & Pete Anthony  
> -"Thought I'd Never Call?" by James Newton Howard & Pete Anthony  
> -"London" by James Newton Howard & Pete Anthony  
> -"Shine On (Explicit)" by Nas  
> -"Archer Sells Diamond" by James Newton Howard & Pete Anthony  
> -"The Road To Exile" by Afro Celt Sound System  
> -"Mama Ararira" by Afro Celt Sound System & Dorothee Munyaneza  
> -"Children Found" by Andrea Guerra  
> -"Ne Ma Laisse Pas Seule Ici" by Tilly Key


	7. Crash Into Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean experiences the aftermath Marco faces after every fire and some are harder to shake off than others and tries to help ease the pain...
> 
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> 
>  
> 
> AUTHOR'S NOTE: So this installment is shorter than usual but it's all about building the relationship between our boys and addressing the very real emotional hardships that firefighters face. Many people only see the uniform but there is a living breathing person in there that is just as scared as everyone else. The only difference is that they have the courage to put their life on the line to save those of others. It's a trait I admire so I wanted to spend this chapter touching base on the deeper side of their profession and how the people around them live through the difficult times alongside them.

Jean had given up on sleeping after the third time he was woken up by Marco's soft cries coming from his side of the bed. He knew that firefighting was more than just a physically demanding job. It wore the men and women down mentally too; grinding away at their emotional endurance until they were stripped raw. The young man had seen what it had done to his father when he came home from the bigger fires so he knew Marco was probably living through the same hell. He just didn't know that it'd follow him into his sleep.

Turning onto his other side, the blonde reached out to push the hair away from his lovers' tear stained face. In the light of the full moon, he could see every little detail from his freckles to the tiny scar above his right eyebrow. When a pitiful whimper left his trembling lips, Jean's heart broke.

Pulling the man into his chest, he nuzzled his face into that mess of silken dark brown hair after kissing his forehead. He didn't know what to do. This was something the young man had never been trained to handle. Even in his previous relationships, for the little time they had lasted, he had never been faced with this kind of situation. So, trusting his instincts, Jean comforted Marco as best as he could without waking the man.

With one hand placed on the nape of his warm tanned neck and the other rubbing long soothing circles into the broad expanse of his back, Jean whispered sweet nothings in his ear hoping that they would reach Marco in his dreams. As he did, the tears slowly came to a halt and his breathing leveled. Every so often a little sniffle or hiccup would come but it seemed like the brunette was finally free from the torment of his dreams. Resting soundly now, Marco muttered in his sleep. Most of it was incoherent babble and little groans. But one word reached out and stole the blonde's wavering attention.

"Jean..." Marco sighed in his sleep.

Smiling softly, Jean kissed his lover on the forehead before returning to place his cheek on the crown of the mans' head.

"I'm right here Marco. You're safe."

Another groan and deep sigh left the brunette's lips as he pulled the warm body in so that it was closer to him. It was almost painful how endearing and sweet the action was. Even in his sleep, the man wanted him closer. It were as if their bodies had been reprogrammed to seek out one another and feel the pain of loneliness when they were apart. Jean knew he felt it when they were separated.

It had only been two months and some change since they had started dating but Marco was always there--present in the back of Jeans' mind like a beautiful ghost of a memory that haunted him in his dreams. The only time the anxiety and heartache disappeared was when they were reunited. 

The intern didn't know how either of them were going to survive the rest of the fire season but he would figure it out. For once in his life, Jean was determined to make a relationship work because the man in his arms was worth it. Marco was worth every bit of suffering; especially if it meant he could listen to the brunette whisper his name like a prayer in his sleep.

Combing his fingers through his lovers' soft hair, Jean closed his eyes with a smile playing across his lips as he listened to the birds singing in the backyard as the sun began it's early journey through the morning sky. It was a beautiful moment that rooted him in reality. Stripped of their guises, it was just them tangled together enjoying the quiet presence of one another. Feeling his heart swell, the blonde held his man tighter.

"I love you Marco," Jean whispered before kissing the mans' ear. Closing his eyes, he fell back asleep to the steady sound of Marco's breathing.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

Marco had never felt so at ease than he had that morning. Despite the aching everywhere from the stress finally catching up to him, the man woke up feeling refreshed and peaceful. It had been a long time since he had gotten to sleep in an actual bed and just as long since he had seen his lovers' face up close.

Wincing as his bones and joints whined in protest, Marco rolled over to be greeted by the sight of Jean sleeping soundly next to him. Glancing down at the protective arms that had been wrapped around him, the brunette wondered if they had been like that all night.

Observing the young man as he slept, Marco studied his features closely so as to memorize them for the days when they'd be apart. Jean was so beautiful, it hurt sometimes to look at him for any length of time. That pale flawless skin that covered him like a blanket of snow was shaped by the fine angles of his cheekbones, aristocratic nose, and sharp jawline. Fluttering over the expanse were his long dark lashes that hid those enchanting golden eyes that seemed to burn bright with a sunlight all of their own. A small sigh escaped past the blonde's full petal soft lips that curled gently at the corners.

Without even thinking about it, Marco reached up and smoothed the feather light hair away from Jean's forehead. Part of him wished they had met sooner in life because this man was exactly what he had been missing for so many years. Blunt, witty, and sassy with just the right amount of sweet, he was strong enough to hold his own but smart enough to know when to fall back on others. If only they had known each other during Marco's teen years or even during middle school when the nuns at his Catholic school would harangue him for making snide remarks in health class. If only they had met before he wasted four years on the worst mistake of his life. If only he had found this shining beacon sooner but, if he had, would they still be together now? Would he be the person he is at this moment? Would Jean?

As the thoughts ran through his head, Jean stirred with a faint mumble. Shifting away just enough so that he could rub his eyes as they opened, the blonde struggled for a moment as his vision settled. When the early morning haze had cleared, he saw his lovers' freckled collarbone and throat. Following it up to his defined jaw, delicately pointed chin, and pausing for only a moment on those pillowy lips with the a small beauty mark hidden in the right-side corner where they curved up, Jean's gaze was met by the warm loving umber eyes that he had dreamed of seeing for weeks. Without knowing how much those eyes affected him, the young man reached up to cup his lovers' face while a solitary tear streaked across his face.

"Hey," Jean rasped; his voice still rough from the deep sleep he was shaking off.

Thumbing the tear away from his cheek, Marco leaned in and kissed him once. "Hey."

"How'd you sleep?"

"Like a dream. I usually don't do so well the first couple of nights back from a job so I'm kinda surprised."

"So that's normal, huh?" Jean said without thinking. Moments later, he bit his lip as Marco chuckled. "Sorry, I didn't mean for it to sound so rude."

"It's alright but I guess that means I didn't sleep as well as I thought."

Gnawing on his bottom lip, the young man looked up once he finally had the courage. "I could hear you crying in your sleep. I didn't know what to do so I just tried my best to comfort you without waking you up."

"I guess that explains the dream."

"You dreamt about me?"

With a softer edge to his gaze, Marco tilted his head down to brush their noses against each other. "Every night, Jean. You're always in my head. Last night would've been rough if you hadn't been around to chase off the nightmares."

"They're that bad?"

Shaking his head, the brunette buried his head in the crook of his lovers neck while pulling him closer. "It's the worst the first two or three nights after a job. Then they start fading but sometimes it takes longer than usual for them to go away depending on what happened. We lost a few people this time around," he sniffled as he struggled to hold back the pain. "So the dreams are going to probably be sticking around for a couple days longer than they normally do. Sorry, I guess I didn't finish in the car before I came in."

Staring at him with wide, pained eyes as the man he loved broke down in his arms, Jean brought him in closer. It were as if Marco were slowly coming undone and piece by piece, parts of his true self were revealed. Jean knew the man was strong and that he could take a lot more than people gave him credit for but his greatest weakness was also his best selling point: his big heart. Marco was kindhearted beneath all the sass and witticisms. The only way he could survive in his line of work was to wear a proverbial bullet proof vest. But even those had their weak points.

As Marco slumped into Jeans' chest, the blonde rested his chin on top of his head while his arms wrapped around him like they had hours ago when he was shaking in his sleep. Allowing him to cry all he wanted, the young man rubbed his back in long soothing circles while resting his cheek atop his crown of fragrant chocolate brown waves. Closing his eyes as he took in a deep breath, he could feel Marco's breaths match up to his even though the tears continued.

"It's alright babe," Jean cooed with a kiss to his ear. "You don't have to be strong right now. You can lay it all on me, okay. Just relax and let go."

"Jean..." Marco choked.

"Hmm?"

"Please...don't leave," the brunette cried as he gripped the fabric of his lovers' shirt tighter. "Before you came along I thought I was fine. Before you...before you I thought this was normal. That the guilt I felt was mine to carry but I can't anymore. It never gets easier seeing people die and I'm exhausted from carrying this around on my own so please...don't leave me. Stay; let me keep you. I need you Jean."

Now it was Jeans turn to cry as the timid yet powerful confession broke over him like a ton of lead bricks. With trembling lips and tears clouding his vision, the blonde kissed Marco on the forehead then held him as tightly as he could. Releasing a sigh, Jean smiled with both eyes closed.

"You'd have more luck separating yourself from your own DNA, Marco. I won't leave you; I promise."

"Really?"

"Yup. I love you; all of you and I can't stop. I want you every minute of every day. You don't know it but I was a wreck while you were gone. So I need you just as much." Leaning down a bit further, Jean kissed him gently on the lips. "You can't leave me either, Marco. You're mine, alright?"

"Always."

With a smile, Jean nodded. "Always."

\------------------------------------------------------------------

Waking up for the third time that morning, Jean was surprised to see Marco missing from the bed. Glancing around as he rubbed the sleep away from his eyes, the young man could here the water running in the bathroom down the hall. Dragging himself to his feet, Jean wandered across the room then through the hall following the faint sound of music. Without knocking since it was his place after all, he opened the door and was greeted by a wall of built up steam. He didn't bother announcing his entry into the space. Instead he just walked on in--closing the door behind him--and opened the window to let some of the heat out.

Pausing for only a moment as a mischievous thought crossed his mind, the intern pursued his fantasy and stripped off his sleeping pants and henley. Letting his boxers drop to the ground, Jean slid the shower door open and stepped inside. Marco was busy rinsing the conditioner out of his hair when the blonde had made his appearance. He didn't notice the mans' presence until a pair of warm arms slid around his waist and two soft lips kissed the back of his right shoulder.

Opening his eyes, Marco spun around; careful not to smack his partner in the face. When their eyes met, he could see something heated swimming in the depths of Jeans' golden amber gaze. Licking his the edge of his teeth, the brunette appraised the young man and the perfect form he possessed. He wasn't sure if this was an invitation or a tease but Marco was determined to find out. He had been dying to touch Jean for weeks; had been starving for the sound of his voice in his ears and his body wrapped around him. To see it on display for him--dripping wet and without flaw--had the brunette hot under the collar.

Closing the distance between them before Marco took any longer to do so, Jean hooked a hand over the mans' hip and pulled him in for a long hot kiss that was anything but shy. It was like they were dying of thirst and needed each other to survive. Tangling their tongues together, the brunette took control and pinned his bold lover against the tiled wall as the water showered over them both. Running his hands down Jeans' sides, he squeezed his firm backside which elicited a feral growl from the blonde. Rutting their firming lengths against one another, Jean raked his fingers through Marco's hair; tugging on the wet silken brown locks in silent encouragement to keep going.

"Marco," Jean breathed as he bit at the mans' earlobe. "I want you; right here, right now."

Craning his head down so that he could bite the blondes' appetizing neck, Marco sucked a mark into the pale flesh before moving to take command of his lips. "Whatever you want baby. I'm all yours."

"Anything I want?"

"Mhmm," the brunette hummed as he kissed from Jean's lips to his ear. "Anything."

"Then take me from behind and don't hold anything back."

Shivering at the sound of Marco's laughter rumbling deep in his chest, Jean moaned when those strong hands pulled him close so that they were flush against each other. Letting his hands wander wherever they pleased, the blonde dragged his nails down the expanse of Marco's broad bronzed shoulders and back where his fingertips danced along his lovers' sensitive spine. Groaning into the embrace, the brunette rolled his hips against Jeans' to garner some much needed friction. Smirking when Jean bucked up into it, the brunette dropped a hand to wrap around both their lengths.

"Fuck," Jean hiss as Marco began to stroke them with a firm grip. "God, I've missed you."

"Really? Did you want me that badly?" the brunette teased, adding a little twist to the motion.

Moaning long and loud just the way Marco liked it, Jean let his head rest against the wall for support. "Yeah. Shit baby, I can't tell you how many times I dreamt about this. But it's not the same without you. I couldn't do it without you."

"You waited three weeks for me? I'm touched," he said with a little chuckle to his tone.

Growling, Jean pulled his teasing partner into a fierce kiss that was more tongues and biting than anything. "Yes, I couldn't get off for three weeks because you were gone so fuck me Marco Bott before I lose my mind."

Happily allowing his instincts to take over, Marco spun Jean around and, just as he asked for, began working him from behind. Dropping to his knees, he started stroking the blondes' erection but would pause whenever he got impatient. Kissing up his thighs, the brunette bit and worried small bruises into the warm skin. Trailing a path up to his taut backside, Marco ghosted his lips over the sensitive muscle then licked the flesh between the dimples on Jeans' back. He could feel his partner coming undone; feel his legs shiver and his breathing catch. It was beautiful listening to him cry out for him like that.

"Marco," Jean gasped as his lover kissed from his back, down to his ass. "Fuck baby, please. Don't make me wait."

"You got to be patient for a little longer babe," Marco smirked as he brushed a finger over the blondes entrance then, slowly and carefully, pushed inside. "I think you forgot how big I am. I can't take you without a bit of prep-work remember."

Choking on his words as the digit worked him open, Jean shivered and squirmed, desperate for more. He needed Marco's lips on him, his hands taunting him, and that body heat overwhelming him. He needed everything Marco had and he wanted it right now. A strained ragged moan escaped his lungs as a second finger entered him; twisting and spreading his tight hole open more. Gradually, Jeans' words faded until he was nothing but a whining mess crying out for more of this sweet torture. Pushing against the third digit as it easily slipped inside, a scream of ecstasy rocked through him as Marco hit his prostate with purpose. He wasn't going to last much longer but he didn't want to cum on his own. Sex was a team sport and he wanted his partner to enjoy it with him.

"B-Baby," the blonde stammered as he felt another twist pushing into him. "Marco, it's good now."

Without saying a word. the brunette gently removed his fingers from the soft heat they'd been engulfed in. Placing a kiss in between his lovers' shoulder blades while he laid his hand over Jeans' that was planted against the tiled wall, a low hiss left his lips as he slid inside the tight entrance until he was buried up to the base. Letting his lover adjust, Marco kissed a path up his back, over his shoulders, along his neck where he left little marks that could easily be hidden, and up to his ear.

"I've missed this so much Jean," Marco breathed while, without thinking, his other hand that had been secured around his hip, found its' way his abdomen. Resting his palm over the spot Jean had placed it on top of the first time they had made love, a smile danced across his face when he felt himself nudging inside the blonde. "I still can't believe that you can take all of me. Your body's amazing baby."

Chuckling when he felt the brunette give a little push forward, Jean arched his back and looked over his shoulder. "Welcome home Marco."

That view alone would have been enough to make the brunette cum if he didn't have an abundance of patience and self-restraint. Leaning forward, he captured Jean's mouth with his. Pulling his hips back, they then snapped forward; hitting the young mans' prostate with punishing force. Neither of them would last long; not like this. Not after waiting so long for this moment that the tension and carnal need boiling between them was stifling.

Working them into a steady rhythm, Marco drowned happily in the obscene moans his beautiful partner was making and delighted in the way his body responded to every little touch of his hands, lips, and teeth as they scraped the nape of his fair neck. As the sweat beading on his forehead mingled with the water showering over them in a gentle staccato, Marco hooked an arm around Jeans' stomach and pulled him into a standing position while the other held one of his legs up to deepen the angle.

Now wailing, Jean felt his body convulse and scream out in pleasure as Marco penetrated him deeper than he had ever been taken before. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. No words, sounds, or breaths came forward for a long moment as he sank down onto his partners long stiff shaft that reached past his prostate with every thrust. Tears fell from his eyes as he was overcome by how good he felt. It was so perfect--so wonderful--that he could die in that moment and know he had gone the way he wanted; perfectly happy and safe in his lovers arms.

Reaching around to comb his hand through Marco's luscious hair while his other hand held onto the brunette's arm that was secured around his waist, Jean did his best to keep up with the punishing pace. His partner was relentless; feeding off of the sounds he was making and using it as motivation to drive harder and faster. The sound of wet skin slapping together accompanied their moans, grunts, and gasps for air that filled the bathroom. As the angle change a fraction of an inch more, Jean caved in to his climax; unable to take it anymore.

"Baby, I'm going to cum. Holy shit, I'm cumming!" Jean cried out shortly before his body tensed and the pressure building in the pit of his stomach snapped, sending him over the edge. "Marco!!"

Grunting at the strength of Jean's body clamping down around him, Marco could only shudder with his lovers' name on his lips before he was sent reeling of the precipice of his orgasm. Thrusting twice more into that beautiful heat that pulled him back in every time, the brunette held onto Jean like a lifeline as he released inside him. Breathing heavy, the two remained silent as they fought for air until their ragged gasps leveled out. Sliding out of Jean, Marco kept his hold on the blonde knowing all too well that his knees couldn't support his weight yet.

Turning around in the brunette's embrace, the intern wrapped his arms over the mans' broad and freshly scratched shoulders. Pressing a kiss into his pillowy lips then one on his nose and cheeks, Jean brought Marco in for a hug; cradling the back of his head with one hand while the other was placed firmly at the center of his back.

"Thank God you're home," the blonde sighed as he closed his eyes. "Now everything's perfect."

After suffering the long grueling hours away and the emotional discord of losing multiple civilian lives, Marco was back to where he belonged: in Jean's arms. It had been an arduous journey paved with hardship, insomnia, and a newfound sense of homesickness. There were days where it felt like it would never end even after he had been battling the raging fire for almost sixteen hours straight. Every morning he woke up to the smell of smoke was like being teased with the promise of a paradise he'd never get to see. It had been fire, smoldering carcasses of the wildlife, and ash raining down on him for the past month. But now he was home. Now, he had Jean and a two week reprieve to recuperate from the extreme exhaustion he had been holding back.

Nodding, Marco held him close; refusing to let even the air come between them. "Yeah," he smiled weakly while nuzzling into Jeans' neck. "I'm home."

..........14 days until the team reports back to work..........

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's an inspiration setlist because I didn't have a character setlist planned for this one. Since it's an emotion-heavy piece, the songs are going to match so please, consider yourself warned.
> 
>  
> 
> *Rescue Me List*
> 
> -"I Of The Storm" by Of Monsters and Men  
> -"Middle Distance Runner" by Sea Wolf  
> -"Rose Captain" by Sea Wolf  
> -"Whirlpool" by Sea Wolf  
> -"Islands" by Sara Bareilles  
> -"Wreck Of The Day" by Anna Nalick  
> -"Breathe (2 am)" by Anna Nalick  
> -"Somewhere Only We Know" by Keane  
> -"Chasing Cars" by Snow Patrol  
> -"I Will Follow You Into The Dark" by Death Cab for Cutie  
> -"Brothers On A Hotel Bed" by Death Cab for Cutie  
> -"Stable Song" by Death Cab for Cutie  
> -"Summer Skin" by Death Cab for Cutie  
> -"Transatlanticism" by Death Cab for Cutie  
> -"Landslide" by Dixie Chicks  
> -"Superman" by Five for Fighting  
> -"Avenue Of Hope" by I Am Kloot  
> -"Born To Die" by Lana Del Rey  
> -"Never Let Me Go" by Florence + The Machine  
> -"St. Jude" by Florence + The Machine  
> -"What The Water Gave Me" by Florence + The Machine  
> -"Blackout" by Muse  
> -"Endlessly" by Muse  
> -"Sing For Absolution" by Muse  
> -"Tomorrow Comes Today" by Gorillaz  
> -"Every Planet We Reach Is Dead" by Gorillaz  
> -"Let Go" by Frou Frou  
> -"Blame It On The Tetons" by Modest Mouse  
> -"Such Great Heights" by Iron & Wine  
> -"Postcard #17" by Jens Lekman  
> -"Blue Ocean Floor" by Justin Timberlake  
> -"Rapture" by Tropics  
> -"Always In My Head" by Coldplay  
> -"O (Hidden Track)" by Coldplay  
> -"Fix You" by Coldplay  
> -"The Scientist" by Coldplay  
> *For the last portion of the fic, the writing inspiration came from Lana Del Rey's "Born To Die" and "Paradise" albums. <3


	8. Counting Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean takes Marco on a long vacation as an early birthday gift and the boys spend some quality time together before Marco returns to firefighting...
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> AUTHOR'S NOTE!: Salute mes amis! I do apologize for taking so long to post this installment of Afterglow. I know, it's been a while. However, life has been a little screwy and things ran away from me. Secondly, I want to thank everyone for their continued support on this fic. I never imagined my works would receive the attention they have so thank you all for making this that much more worth while. I take great joy in writing these stories and I am glad to see ya'll are having fun reading them. Don't be shy if you want to leave feedback in the comments section. Your insight is always appreciated.
> 
> Stay freaky and stay lovely,  
> -Mars

It had been five days since Marco had come home yet Jean could tell he still wasn't quite back to his normal self. He took longer runs in the mornings, woke up countless times in his sleep, and was quieter than usual. Jean didn't want to push him past his limit; didn't want to force him into talking. He wanted the brunette to come to him of his own volition but, as the days passed, his mood worsened. So, doing what any concerned partner would do, the blonde created his own brand of an intervention.

With a little over a week left until his lover had to report back to the station for another assignment, the intern came up with a plan to get Marco back to normal. His method: getting the fuck out of town. It was a little past 5:00 a.m. when Jean pulled up to the brunette's home with his white Mercedes-Benz G-Class packed with all the camping essentials and then some. Armed with coffee and a cinnamon scone from Starbucks, he approached the front door with caution. Kat was a monster in the mornings--he having learned that the hard way when she nearly killed him for moaning too loud one morning despite his concerted efforts to stay quiet. However, before he could even knock on the door, it swung open and he was greeted by the woman's cold piercing glare and unruly bedhead.

Dressed in a men's David Bowie t-shirt with holes around the neck and green and black plaid boxers, Kat stared at him for a long silent minute then glanced to the bag with the scone in it. Eyes flicking back up to Jean's face, she took the pastry bag, peeked inside then grunted as she stepped out of the way. As the pixie blonde shuffled into the expansive living room, she flopped down on the couch next to Josie whose wavy black-brown hair was a mess with her bangs pinned back.

"Hey Josie," Jean said trying to be as polite as possible since he had unintentionally woken up the entire household.

"Yo," the slim brunette responded in a gruff tone as she fell over onto her girlfriend, letting her head rest on the other womans' lap. Neither of them were morning people despite Kat being a firefighter and Josie a news reporter that was usually out on assignment before the sun even came up. "Your boy'll be down in a minute. He's finishing packing for wherever the fuck it is you guys are going."

"Pretty sure they're goin' camping," Kat grumbled as she ate the scone Jean had bought her as a peace offering for waking her at such an ungodly hour.

"You guys gonna have a Brokeback Mountain weekend?" Josie teased with a surprisingly devious leering gaze despite it being so early. "I wonder who's the cowboy and who's the stallion."

"Really Jo? You're going to start with that shit this early in the morning?" Marco called as he came down the stairs. Stopping to give Jean a kiss on the cheek while taking his cup of coffee, the man shot Josie a scrutinizing look with a single arched brow. "I could bring up the bi-monthly trips you two take but that'd be below the belt now wouldn't it."

"Bite me Bott."

"Cool it babe," Kat said with a hand on her shoulder. 

Josie and Marco had been going at it since the team had gotten back and petite blonde found herself caught in the middle. She knew better than anyone that the reason for their constant fighting was lack of sleep and heightened levels of irritation on both sides and that the best way to remedy the problem was to get them separated. Marco wasn't in any mood to be played with yet Josie couldn't help herself being the sadist she was. For the past couple of days they had been going at it like cats and dogs so Kat was praying that Jean's plan would be like hitting the refresh button on a computer; if not for Marco's peace of mind then for hers.

"Come on baby," Jean tugged at his lovers' arm--feeling only a minimal amount of resistance. "We need to get going. It's a long drive and since I'm doing all the driving, I want to get a start on it before traffic gets ugly."

Squaring his jaw with his eyes still locked on Josie, Marco sighed. "Fine, let's go. Keep things decent while I'm gone," he added--mainly talking to Kat--as he turned to leave. "I'll be back in a couple days. And stay out of my room."

"I'm makin' no promises," Kat called as he opened the front door. "Love ya' Marco."

Rolling his eyes, the brunette smirked as he took hold of the knob to close the entrance. "Love ya' Kat. Stay out of trouble."

Approaching the car in relative silence, Marco opened the rear passenger door and tossed his black LAFD duffel bag into the back seat. Eyeing the gear that filled the trunk space, he finally connected the dots after struggling to do so all week. Jean had dropped a few hints here and there but left it to him to figure out what they were doing. The moment his gaze landed on the family size tent folded up in its carrier, he could feel the faint smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

"So we are going camping," the brunette said more as a statement than as a question. Sliding into the passenger seat, he looked across the space between them as Jean buckled in while wearing a satisfied grin. "Why didn't you just tell me? I could have brought some gear."

"I wanted it to be a surprise since this is my birthday gift to you. Also, you're talking to an Eagle Scout here so mind yourself," the blonde stated with a smug expression. "I've got more than enough equipment on board so just relax and enjoy the trip, 'kay."

"Holy crap, I'm dating a Boy Scout."

"You say it like it's a bad thing."

"It's not bad just funny," Marco admitted as he took another sip from his coffee while Jean reversed the car, swung it around, then charged up the driveway to reach the main road. "I never would have pegged you for a Boy Scout. Aren't they supposed to be goody two shoes and walk little old ladies across the street?"

"You're right. It sounds more like your kind of a gig."

"Punk," the brunette chuckled as he knocked his fist gently against his partners' shoulder. "Sorry if I was a bit of an asshole back there. I haven't been sleeping so I've been a bit on edge but still, it's not an excuse to act like that."

"I'm not the one you should be apologizing to babe," the blonde said gently. "Josie's a snarky piece of work but she was only teasing. It's hard for Kat when the two of you fight like that because you're her best friend but Jo's her girlfriend."

"I know. It's just she gets under my skin sometimes."

"Yeah, because you two are just like each other."

"No we aren't."

"Yeah," Jean insisted with a humored expression. "You kinda are. I mean, don't get me wrong, she's fucking crazy; I'm surprised Kat has the patience for her. But you two are similar in a lot of aspects. But the main point is that you guys need to find some compromise because Kat can't keep it together much longer. She's just as exhausted as you are and being with Jo makes her happy. You know, kinda like us."

Sighing, Marco slumped back into his seat while pulling out his phone. "You know I hate it when you do that."

"Do what?"

"Use logic and reason to win your arguments."

Snorting a laugh, Jean glanced to Marco then back at the road. "Love you too, babe."

Rolling his eyes though with a smile, the brunette typed out a quick text message to his friend. He knew Jean was right; that he had acted like an ass and took things too far. Both he and Kat were mentally at their ropes ends from the month long job they had recently come home from. And while she hid the stress better than he did, Marco knew better than to think she wasn't just as on edge as him. So, listening to reason, he gracefully admitted defeat.

MARCO: Hey, sorry for that stunt I pulled earlier. I let Josie's teasing get to me and made an ass out of myself. I hope you guys can take it easy while I'm gone.

KAT: LoL. I was wondering how long it'd take ya' to come 'round. It's alright; I forgive ya'. Jo's sorry too. We've all been a bit bitchy lately so this trip'll be good for all of us.

MARCO: Tell Jo I accept her apology. lol. Yeah, Jean said something like that too. Anyway, love you Kit Kat. See you when I come back.

KAT: Later sweetlove. Have fun and remember, assume the fetal position if a bear comes stompin' round and watch out for poison oak.

MARCO: Thanks. I'll keep that in mind. lol.

Watching as Marco turned his phone off and slipped it back into his pocket, Jean knew that the two friends had reconciled with one another. If the change of atmosphere wasn't proof enough then the look on the brunette's face and his body language would claim witness to the shift in moods. Less tense in the shoulders with his head leaning into the cool glass of the window, a small smile played across his pillowy lips while his eyes fluttered shut. Reaching across, Jean smoothed the hair away from the mans' forehead; chuckling when Marco took his hand and kissed the back of it before pulling it down to rest on his lap. The day may have gotten off to a rough start but he could already tell that this was going to be a good trip.

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Cutting through the California interior, past sprawling valleys and running alongside the proud mountains capped with snow, the couple drove further away from civilization and closer to the wilderness. Stopping for breaks every two or three hours, they would pull off the road and catch a bit to eat and then briefly explore the small town or rest area they had pulled off on. Despite him being polite when he asked, Marco still didn't know where they were going. Driving past Monterey and cruising through San Francisco and Big Sur, the brunette's curiosity only grew as they came up on the eight hour marker. Just how far north was Jean taking them?

Deciding that it'd be best to stop thinking about it and just enjoy his partners' company, Marco scrolled through the interns' extensive music library on his phone--searching for the next song to play. Landing on an old favorite, he tapped on "Yet Again" by Grizzly Bear. It fit the mood and was easy on the ears so it wouldn't distract Jean from driving. As they passed through Eureka, the brunette watched crowds of massive trees--redwoods as tall as skyscrapers--flank them in on either side as they entered the Shasta-Trinity State Park.

Twenty minutes after entering the park Jean left the main road. Switching on power-drive to combat the rougher terrain, the blonde navigated them past centuries old trees of titanic proportions. Peeking through the branches was the golden sunlight. Like an SOS, the rays of light flashed over the car in a broken pattern leaving them illuminated for long moments and dark for others as they ducked into the tree line. 

Taking a right at the large wooden sign for the Redwood National Forest, they followed the dirt path until reaching the somewhat paved road visitors used to get to the numerous campgrounds in the area. Coming to a rolling stop at the rangers station, Jean put the car into idle with the parking brake on. Kissing Marco on the cheek, he told him he'd be back in a moment. One moment turned into five and then ten before the blonde returned with a parking permit, fishing permit, a map of the campgrounds with all the ranger stations listed on the left-hand side, and a ticket with the number 53 stamped on it that would go on the dashboard once they got to their site.

Picking up the ticket and then the campground map, Marco studied the items for a second before he looked to Jean. "What's the Prairie Creek campground and why does it have the icon for 'Elk' next to it?"

"You'll find out in a minute. Trust me, it's nothing bad. Actually, I'm pretty sure you'll like it."

"What are you scheming babe?"

"Not saying. You'll have to wait and find out."

Marco slumped back into his seat with an expression of both mild annoyance and curiosity. He wasn't really the most patient man when it came to certain things. Work, school, and handling friends during turbulent times was just about it when it came to his limits. Other than that, when he saw or knew of something he wanted, he found a way to get it. But Jean was the king of playing the waiting game, especially if it meant teasing him in the process. It made sense though since the majority of the doctors and surgeons he knew had the patience of a monk. Hell, anyone he knew who was in medicine had more self-restraint than him. So knowing he wouldn't win that game against his partner, Marco leaned his head against the window and watched the meadows, wooded campgrounds, and glimpses of a roaring river pass by.

As the car turned onto a small path that led to a grand flowering meadow enclosed on all sides by the redwoods, the brunettes eyes lit up. Grazing through the pasture were dozens upon dozens of elk accompanied by various other forms of wildlife. Be it lounging in the ankle high grass or munching on the purple flowers that bloomed in the short line of vegetation, the creatures made themselves at home--not minding the other campers that had settled in around the fringes. 

Laughing as Marco jumped out of the car once it was parked, Jean watched his man take in the sight with childlike wonder. Leaning over the hood of the Benz, he smiled when the brunette approached a mellowed out elk sitting close by. Reaching out his hand, he waited for the animal to inspect his fingers before it bowed its head and allowed him to pet it. Marco always did have a soft spot for animals which was why it was particularly hard on him when his team had to handle dead wildlife that hadn't escaped from the burn zone in time. And while it didn't happen too often, this last fire had killed a good deal of deer, mountain lions, raccoons, and bobtails and Marco saw a good number of them.

"I thought you'd get a kick out of camping next to the elk grazing grounds," Jean beamed adoringly as the brunette came back with a look of excitement in his deep umber eyes.

"Babe, I just petted an elk. As far as I'm concerned, this is already the best camping trip of my life," Marco smiled before leaning in to kiss him. "How do you know about this place? I've lived in California longer than you and even I didn't know about this."

"Eren, Armin, and I go camping up here sometimes. We usually stick to the interior since the Redwood Falls site is closer to the climbing spots we like. But I thought this was more your taste. Do you like it?"

"Like it? Baby, I love it," the brunette assured him with another kiss while both arms wrapped around Jeans' waist to pull him in closer. "Thank you so much for this. It's going to be nice getting away from everything and just spending time with you."

Humming happily while carding his fingers through his lovers' thick wavy brown hair, Jean nodded. "I know. It'll be awesome having you all to myself for the next five days. I've already got a few places I want to show you; some of them you need climbing shoes to get to though. Did you bring your Sportiva's?"

"Yeah, I brought my Mythos since my pair of Miura's finally died on me."

"May they rest in peace," Jean chuckled as Marco kissed him on the cheek, nose, then forehead. "Happy Birthday Marco."

"Thank you Jean. This is an amazing gift. It's just what I needed."

Kissing once again, they lingered in the embrace for a second more before parting to start setting up camp. While Marco unloaded the car, Jean got to work on the tent. Despite it only being the two of them, he brought his REI co-op Kingdom tent that fit six people so that they could keep the majority of their gear inside. It may be hot everywhere else in California but it was cooler up north and there was always the chance of light rain in the mornings there. He also didn't want to chance losing their coolers and bags of dry food to the wildlife like he had in the past when Eren failed to secure them.

After pitching the tent and fastening all the lasts to the poles so that the detachable awning wouldn't fly off with the first breeze, the blonde set up the inflatable bed that would later be topped with a thick layer of foam and a sheet. Usually he slept in a sleeping bad with a couple of folded blankets underneath to put some cushion between him and the hard ground. However, he had noticed the small twinge in Marco's back and knew that his ribs were still sore so he opted for a queen bed. 

Ditching the inflatable headboard, he layered on the pillows both he and Marco had brought then fixed the sheets and green insulated quilted blanket that were included with the sleep system. Lying down for a moment, Jean closed his eyes while releasing a heavy happy sigh. He also needed this trip. Work was going well which, for a surgeon, meant spending more time on his feet in surgery. He had lost two patients that week; one of which was a twelve year old kid that had been hit by a car on his walk home from school and went under for a spine procedure. If the parents hadn't been so greedy, the kid would have been alive today--just without the use of his legs. But they insisted that their son have the surgery so that he could continue with soccer; now he was gone and Jean had to be the one to tell them.

Relaxing when he felt Marco's weight on the air mattress next to him, the intern curled onto his side and let his partner pull him in closer. Letting himself drown in the warmth of the brunette's body heat and his natural woody scent, Jean could fall asleep in that moment and wouldn't have a care in the world. Smiling into the mans' chest as Marco combed his fingers through his blonde hair, he listened to the heart beating beneath his ear while the lungs accompanying the rhythm inhaled and exhaled. He loved the small moments like these. It was in quiet times such as this that a relationship deepened since no words were needed to say what they felt. Instead the two men just basked in each others' presence; absorbing every second of unspoken happiness like a flower stretching up toward the sun to drink in its' light.

"I love you Marco," Jean mumbled against the plush material of the mans' burgundy henley.

Kissing the top of his partners' head, Marco closed his eyes as he relaxed. "I love you too Jean."

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The sun broke through the marine layer that had carpeted the entire Prairie Creek campground in a thin veneer of fog. Jean remembered falling asleep next to Marco the night before with the outer shell of the tent peeled back so that they could see the stars. However, now he woke up alone in the tent with a chill running down his spine. Stretching his tired arms and legs, he rolled out of bed and tugged on his old heather grey Yale sweater and slipped on the beaten up yet still reliable low-top navy converse he had brought.

Following the smell of coffee, the blonde exited the tent to spot his Yosemite ceramic mug sitting on the picnic table next to the insulated coffee pot. Pouring some of the brew into his cup with a bit of creamer from the other portable canister sitting to the left of the jug, Jean surveyed the area for his missing partner. Within moments, he spotted him a little ways away--sitting quietly in the field with the sketchpad he had brought. 

It would make sense that he'd be drawing at this hour. Back home, if he wasn't out on his morning run, Marco was usually on the porch drawing. Jean loved the look he got when he was working on a piece. The way his mouth hung open as if he were about to say something while his eyes flickered between the subject and his sketch while his eyebrows gently sloped in a serene manner--it was all so enchanting. Watching the brunette as he chuckled when the baby elk he was drawing "talked" back to him when he asked it what it thought of its portrait, Jean quietly approached him from the side. He didn't want to freak out the baby or its' mother and he didn't want to startle Marco either so he made his presence known.

Glancing over his shoulder when he heard footsteps, the brunette smiled bright. "Morning love," he greeted his partner who sat down just a half foot behind him. "Sleep well?"

Resting his chin on Marco's shoulder, Jean nodded. "Thanks for the coffee," he added with a small kiss to the mans neck. Spying the drawing he was working on, he smirked. "You know, I'll never get over how talented you are. You speak four languages, you were the captain of your soccer team and won all four years, climbed El Cap, hiked the entire length of the Appalachians, and could give Leonardo da Vinci a run for his money with those sketches. Is there anything you can't do?"

Laughing lightly to hide how shy he felt in that moment, Marco closed the sketchbook and layered his hands over Jeans' which were secured around his stomach. "I'm terrible at math and I get nauseous when I touch something remotely funky while doing the dishes. Just the thought of soggy food gives me the chills. And I've fainted once or twice when I was a kid and went to the hospital with my aunt on Bring Your Child To Work Day."

"Wait, you fainted?"

Nodding, the brunette smirked as he remembered. "The first time, I was thirteen and I got to watch my aunts' colleague Doctor Pixis work on a broken arm. I didn't know what to expect so when I walked in right as they re-broke the guys' arm to reset it, I almost threw up at the sound of bones breaking then fainted. Tanya--my aunt, thought that the problem was the sound so the following year she had me come with her on a neuro case. The moment I saw the doctor poking at the patients brain, I ran out of the room, threw up, and then collapsed. I woke up a couple hours later with Ymir laughing her ass off in the chair next to the out-patient bed they had put me in."

"Wow, you're that sensitive to it?"

"Yeah. It's more of the visual aspect than anything else. I can talk with you, Levi, and Ymir just fine but the moment I set foot into an OR, all bets are off. It's why I admire you guys for being able to do what you do. I just don't get how you can cut a person open without feeling sick or terrified that you could kill the guy if you so much as sneeze wrong."

"Well," Jean thought for a moment before answering to see if he could convey what he felt every time he did a surgery. "It's not that we aren't afraid. My first surgery, I was a nervous wreck because you only work on cadavers in med school so when I looked down and saw a living breathing person below me, I freaked. I had to opt out of the procedure because I couldn't stop shaking. I remember watching Eren take my place and pull the thing off with breaking a sweat. When we got home that night he told me that the trick wasn't acting like you weren't afraid; instead I should look at each procedure as a step toward helping more people. The better I become, the more lives I could save. So I did and eventually the nerves went away. They still come back once in a while though."

"You could've fooled me baby," the brunette smiled as he leaned back into his lovers' embrace.

Shaking his head, Jean chuckled as he nuzzled into Marco's back. "Yeah well, believe me when I say I am far from perfect. As for the getting sick part, I never had that problem because I was always fascinated by the human body. Our bodies can take so much punishment, be broken and weathered down to nothing and still bounce back from it. The fact that you can take two individual cells from the heart that are beating out of sync then sit them next to each other and watch them beat together is amazing."

"Sounds like you picked the right job then," Marco smiled at the enthusiasm in Jeans' voice. Reaching up, he playfully pinched the mans' nose. "From what I hear, you're one of the brightest interns that hospital has seen in a long time. And you got a good reputation with the nurses and the patients too. But you didn't hear that from me."

"Right," the blonde rolled his eyes.

"So, what did we want to do today apart from sitting in this lovely meadow watching the elk laze about?"

"I actually have a few places I wanted to show you. One of them you'll need your climbing shoes for though."

"Sounds like fun," Marco said as he tilted his head to the side and kissed Jeans' chin. "We better get a move on then. We still haven't eaten and I can't rock climb without something in my stomach."

"No one should climb without eating beforehand. That's just stupid." Grunting as he rose to his feet, Jean offered his partner a hand up which he gratefully took. "Come on, let's get a move on."

Wrapping his right arm around the blondes' waist while the other held his sketchbook, the brunette pulled him closer with a smirk. "I'll make breakfast while you go change. Sound good?"

"Sounds perfect."

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taking the trailhead near the south end of the campground, Jean led them through the thick underbrush of the age old forest. Stopping every so often to take pictures and break for a quick bit to eat, they wandered down the path for what seemed like thirty minutes yet had stretched on for close to an hour. The ground was still damp from the last storm that had barreled through Northern California so they had to be more cautious then if it had been dry for the past week.

Breaking out his climbing shoes, Jean tied the laces of his Tarantulace La Sportiva's together and slung them over the left strap of his backpack. Noticing the gesture, Marco followed suit. Slinging his Mythos over the buckle strap of his pack, the brunette walked along the path a couple paces behind his partner with baited breath. When they turned down the bend of a moss covered rockface they had been following for some time now, Marco's mouth dropped open and his eyes went wide.

"Welcome to Charity Falls," Jean said as he turned his back to the massive waterfall a couple yards away and smiled at Marco.

Eyes popping out of his head, the brunette stepped forward to marvel at the sight before him. Reaching up more than what had to be a hundred feet was a titan of a cascade with smaller falls jutting off of it. At the base was a crystal clear lake that fed into Prairie Creek. Taking a picture of the falls, Marco sent it to Ymir with the attached message "My new favorite spot." Without waiting for her reply, the excited brunette tossed his phone into his backpack and followed Jean up the path that ran adjacent to the lake.

Bumping up next to the drier part of the rockface that acted as one of the "legs" on which Charity Falls stood, the blonde sat his pack down and leaned against a neighboring boulder as he got to work removing his shoes. Marco was about to ask what he was doing but noticed the chalk marks dotting up the side of the falls. Knowing what came next, he took up a spot to Jean's right and started slipping out of his hiking shoes.

"You ever sport climb up the side of a fall before?" the blonde asked as he slid on his harness with a chalk bag attached.

"Babe," Marco flashed that dashing smirk of his that could charm the pants off anyone--man or woman. "I'm from Seattle and I got my first pair of climbing shoes when I was six."

Arching both brows, Jean gawked at the little bit of information. "Wait, six? Really?"

Snorting a laugh, the brunette finished tying his figure eight follow-through knot and hooked into the belay rig. "Yup. You may be a boy scout but I was climbing Whitney before I graduated middle school. Now you're climbing first hotshot so get going."

Smacking the blondes ass as he passed, Marco shot him a flirtatious wink. It never ceased to amaze Jean how quickly the brunette could switch between his different faces. He could go from shy and charming to bold and daring in the bat of an eyelash. Hooking into the anchors climbers had left behind, Jean began his trek up the side of Charity Falls which, in some ways, wasn't feeling too charitable that day. The rock was slick and his chalk caked on his fingers instead of staying as a fine powder.

Down below, the brunette watched Jean as he scaled the rockface while pulling the slack tight on the rope every now and then--leaving enough cable loose so that he had something to clip into the next anchor. As he did, he saw the powder clumping around his lovers' fingers which was causing his grip on the holds to fail. yanking on the rope once as he called up, he waited for Jean to stop.

"Hun," Marco shouted. "I think you need to clap the chalk off your hands and wipe 'em on your shorts. You can't grab the next hold with thick powder."

Listening to his advice, Jean secured his toes into their holds in the rockface then clapped his hands together behind his back so that the powder wouldn't fly up into his eyes. Wiping his hands off on his shorts once they were free of the globs of climbing chalk, the blonde dusted his fingers with a minimal amount so as just to coat them lightly to absorb the sweat. Waiting until Marco had pulled all the slack tight. Jean assessed what his next move should be.

There were white grab marks everywhere from where other climbers had ascended. And while a great many of the paths crossed at some points, all of them diverted around the point he was at Marco was calling for him to the middle route right in front of him but that one had been giving him trouble. Going right meant getting closer to the water which would fuck with the chalk on his hands. But going to the left meant more vegetation and hanging ferns to grapple with.

"Hey Marco, on a scale of one to ten, how comfortable are you with damp climbs?"

Hesitating, the brunette thought about it for a moment. "Probably an eight. Why? Babe, what are you doing?"

"Alrighty. Right side it is."

"Jean, no. That route's too wet."

"I think you mean 'oh, yes Jean.' Relax hun, I got this."

It was then, as if Mother Nature had heard him, that the foot hold his right leg was hitched in came loose and crumbled. Loosing his balance, Jean slammed straight into the wall--hips first, followed quickly by his knees, thighs, and chest. Gasping as the air was knocked out of him, he could hear Marco reacting with a muttered "shit!" under his breath as he pulled the rope tight.

"What was that you were saying?" the brunette teased though he was still watching his partner with a scrutinizing eye. "Oh yeah, 'I got this.'"

"My foot slipped."

"Right, now let's act like I believe you and didn't see the rock give way under your foot."

"Hun, I've climbed this rockface a dozen times. A little slip isn't going to bug me. Now pull the cord because I'm going to clip into this next anchor."

"Yes ma'am."

"Bite me Marco."

"Name a place and a time babe."

Chuckling, Jean shook his head and hooked into the anchor half a foot above his head. "Damn punk," he mumbled to himself.

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After the climb up Charity Falls and the hike back through the famed Fern Canyon where Marco had shot pictures of a couple banana slugs to send them to Ymir, the two men rinsed off in the river before taking a quick late afternoon-early evening nap. The exhaustion slowly seeped into them; tugging at their limbs like weights while relaxing their muscles in an almost therapeutic way.

Dinner was nothing fancy--or at least that's what Marco said as he was flipping the steaks he had bought on one of their pit stops on the drive up. Skipping making s'mores, they just huddled together by the fire with their evening cup of chamomile tea and watched the flames dance within the confines of the wrought iron pit. Jean couldn't remember the last time he had felt so at peace; it was probably the morning after they had made love for the first time before Marco had been called in for the Back Break Ridge job.

Knitting their fingers together under the quilt that was draped over them, the blonde's molten amber eyes followed the sparks popping off from the logs--watching them float upwards until disappearing into the rich midnight blue sky. Gazing up at the blanket of stars that winked back at them from the heavens as they danced around a near full moon, Jean let go of a quiet sigh. If only they could stay like this for a while longer. If only fire season was already over and he could steal Marco away for a month and just travel up the coast with him. 

Looking back down at their hands that had been joined together like puzzle pieces since they had finished dinner, Jean felt his chest tighten and his breathing hitch. He was one-hundred percent, certifiably crazy in love with this man. It was unclear when he fell deeper into the chasm that had already swallowed him whole. Chances are it probably happened when he wasn't paying attention. But what he did know was that he wanted Marco in his life everyday for the rest of his life and that was a very startling notion.

"Hey Jean," Marco called to him softly, pulling the blonde from his reverie. "We should turn in for the night. You keep nodding off."

"Yeah, you're right."

Helping his partner up, Marco smiled when Jean kissed him on the cheek and told him not to take too long putting out the fire. When the blonde had disappeared from view, Marco remained still for a moment or two just staring at tent his partner had just entered. Biting his lip, the brunette had to fight to keep himself together. These past two days had been so perfect and it could only get better. It was a shame that in three days they'd have to return to civilization. Making a mental note to go camping with Jean more often once fire season had ended, Marco put out the dwindling campfire and locked the cooking pans and coffee pot in the car before he grabbed the small lamp on the picnic table and headed inside.

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As much as Marco wanted to tune out and fall asleep, his brain wouldn't let him. Recounting the days events, he laid there wrapped up in Jeans' arms smiling to himself like he had just won the lottery. This had been the best birthday gift he had ever received, by far. It was so thoughtful the way the intern had planned out everything from the hikes to how he had packed an airbed because he knew Marco's back and ribs had been bugging him. All of it just reeked of love and a quiet kind of consideration that showed the depth and maturity of their relationship. Reaching up to the arm that was draped over his shoulder and dangled across his chest, Marco kissed Jean's forearm as he pulled it closer to his heart.

"You're still up?" the blonde grumbled from behind.

Chuckling, Marco nodded adding another kiss to the mans' arm. "Yeah. I can't sleep."

"You think too much baby."

"So I've been told."

Snorting a laugh, Jean pushed into him and kissed the back of Marco's neck. "You need to get your rest. Tomorrow's going to be another long day."

"But I'm not tired just yet."

There was a long pause of silence before Jean spoke. "I can think of a few things we could do that'd help."

Biting his bottom lip, Marco chuckled. "Oh really?" he teased as the blonde set a hand on his shoulder to roll him over. Gladly taking the kiss Jean placed on his lips, Marco licked them once his partner had pulled back. "What did you have in mind?"

"You're really going to make me say it?" the intern laughed as he began to trail down the brunettes freckled throat, worrying soft marks into his bronzed skin before biting playfully at his collarbone. "I want you Marco."

Shuddering at the teeth scraping at his clavicle and the smoothness of Jeans' voice, Marco couldn't stop himself from giving in. "I want you too Jean. So tonight," he stopped so that he could bring the blonde's face up to meet his--eyes locking and lips grazing over each others. "I want you to top."

Heart slamming into his ribs, the young man licked his lips as he gazed into the dazzling pools of earthen brown. "You do?" he asked. When Marco nodded, Jean felt the heat rise beneath his skin. "If that's what you want, then that's what you'll get. Fair warning, I'm a bit...rough."

"Do I look fragile to you?" the brunette laughed with an arched brow--as if to challenge him. "I have a good idea what you'll be like which only makes me want you more."

Groaning, Jean dropped his head to rest on the mans' chest. "You're going to make me lose control if you say things like that."

"Then maybe I should keep talking." Tilting his head to the side, Marco whispered into his ear, "After all, you did say once that you liked the sound of my voice."

Deciding that that was the final straw, Jean pulled away then yanked Marco into a hot aggressive kiss that dripped with hunger. Hooking his arms around the blondes neck, the brunette let his partner take control--surrendering to the man trying to devour him whole. He gasped when he felt Jean's cool hands slide under his shirt and dance along his spine and moaned as the man ground their hips together; their hardening lengths rubbing together through the fabric of their sweatpants.

Grabbing the hem of his lovers' shirt, Marco yanked it off of him then sat up enough that he could kiss the fair flawless skin spread out before him. Pausing only so that Jean could rid him of his t-shirt, they resumed marking each other; biting at bare skin and whispering heated words between smoldering collisions of their lips. Trailing down Marco's neck--making sure he left marks to prove he had been there--Jean nipped at the freckled skin in front of him, loving the intensity of his lovers' racing heart beneath his fingertips. Biting down on his nipple while playing with the other, the blonde could have gotten drunk off the sound of Marco's moans.

"Fuck baby, keep moaning like that. You're so hot when you do."

Shivering as he felt Jean bite his sensitive chest again before moving down further, Marco pushed his head back into the pillow with a long lusting groan. He was already high on the feeling the blonde was battering him with. The touch of his lips burned into the skin on his hips and the tingling that sprouted as Jean dragged his nails down his chest had him squirming. This was going to be intense and hot which was everything Marco needed; it was everything he wanted.

Licking the light happy trail down to the line of his sweatpants, Jean teasingly popped the band of his pants that hung dangerously low on his hips. He could feel how hard Marco was; feel his erection straining against the confines of his clothes and loved every moment of it. Kissing the brunette's member through the fabric, he grinned wickedly when his partner reached down to tangle one hand in his hair. Nipping the head before placing a firm hand over the mans' length, Jean looked up at Marco with a horribly devilish glint in his eyes.

"What's wrong hun? Is there something you want?"

Growling when Jean ground the flat of his palm against his cock, Marco's composure snapped. "I want you to stop teasing and fuck me Jean." Eating his words when Jean pulled his pants and boxers off and took most of his length in his mouth, the brunette moaned long and loud. "Oh God, fuck babe, it feels so good."

Chuckling, the blonde slowly bobbed his head up and down until he felt Marco's tip hit the back of his throat. Pulling back--grazing his shaft with his teeth just enough to earn another moan from his lover--Jean was wholly intent on working the man into a crying wreck. He had been wondering what it would feel like to take Marco, to make him his. So far, he was loving what he was seeing.

"Shit," Marco hissed as Jean slid off of his aching member then licked the underside. "Fucking hell, you're way too good at this."

"Well, being a doctor helps," Jean joked as he kissed his hips while gently stroking the brunette until his fingers were coated. Smiling when Marco laughed at his terrible joke, the blonde began trailing down his thighs; loving the strength in them and how his freckles really were everywhere. "It makes it easier to read your body if I know what makes it tick. Like these dimples on your back," he mused while brushing the fingers of his right hand over the marks as he tilted Marco's hips up. "The fact that you have these means your pelvic girdle is angled forward which puts all your organs in a deeper location...except for one."

As he spoke the three last words, Jean pushed a slicked finger inside. Bucking his hips up, Marco bit down on his kiss swollen lip and tried to steady his breathing. It had been a while since he had been taken and he had almost forgotten the feeling. What he did manage to forget though was that his prostate was more shallow than the average mans so when Jean inserted a second finger into him and spread them apart, he couldn't stop the long moan that ripped through him. Crying out in sheer ecstasy, the brunette hooked a leg over his lovers' shoulder to deepen the richness of the sensations coursing through him.

"Jean," he huffed then whimpered as a third digit pushed back into him. Lips quivering, he called out again. "Baby, you can't keep going like that."

"Why?" Jean asked innocently as he went back to working the brunette's cock with his tongue. "Was I right about those dimples?" he winked.

"Damn it, you fucking know you are."

Humming happily, he increased the speed at which he was working the man open; driving harder and deeper while loving every single sound it elicited from him. Marco was so perfect; so beautiful and wonderfully made it were as if he was too perfect to exist in this world. The fact that he got to hold him and have him like this was like a shot through Jeans' heart. He loved everything about Marco--from his speckled nose and unreal warm brown eyes to his velvet smooth voice and the youthful side of his personality that he rarely showed anyone else apart from him. He loved it all and wanted to keep it all for himself.

"God, I love you," the blonde breathed as he kissed the upside down heart shaped birthmark on the mans' right hipbone. "You're so fucking amazing baby; so beautiful and perfect."

"I love you too Jean," Marco said almost as a whisper as the pressure at the base of his spine continued to build; coiling tighter with every passing moment. "Babe, I can't take it anymore. Please Jean, don't make me wait. I want you inside me."

"Yeah, I can't hold out either."

Making quick work of ridding himself of his sleeping pants and boxers, Jean loomed over his lover as he lined up at his entrance. Gazing up at the blonde, Marco felt his heart clench when he saw his partner framed by a backdrop of glittering stars. 'God, please let me keep him forever,' he thought to himself as he brought the intern in for a long adoring kiss. Deepening the embrace as Jean gradually pushed inside him, Marco hooked his legs around the mans waist to give him a better angle to work with. Breaking away from Jeans' lips as the last bit slipped into his tight entrance, the brunette calmed his breathing before he could choke on it.

Reaching down to where they were joined, Marco admired how full and warm he felt. It was crazy how, either way they did this, their bodies matched up perfectly. He couldn't help but think that they really had been made for each other; that during their creation, their forms were assembled side by side to ensure a perfect match. And as Jean began to move, Marco couldn't stop the love in his heart from flowing out and consuming him like a rampant wildfire.

Slowly, Jean worked them into a steady rhythm that had them sweating and breathing hard in no time. Marco was so tight and hot that it was almost enough to push him over the edge. Leaning down as he picked up the pace, the blonde tasted the heat of his tanned neck and bit down where his throat met his collarbone. In retort to his teasing, he felt his frayed lover claw into his back; dragging his nails down the expanse of his fair skin. Humming at the delightful stinging sensation, he thrusted harder.

"Holy shit. Don't stop babe," Marco panted as Jean pushed into him deeper; scraping past his prostate with lethal force. "Fuck, you feel so good inside me."

"Yeah?" Jean smirked, changing the angle when he felt his partner clamp down on him. "You look like you're enjoying yourself an awful lot."

Crying out as the blonde slammed into his prostate, Marco felt himself jump out of his skin; back arching off the bed as the assault on his weak spot was worked harder. Gasping desperately for air, he anchored one hand in the short strands of Jeans' hair near the nape of his neck while the other cupped the side of his face. It was too much; so much that he could die happy in that moment. But then again, it'd be lonely without Jean around.

Hanging onto the blonde as if he were the embodiment of life itself, Marco could feel his climax racing toward him. It scratched at the nerves under his skin and fanned the fire in his gut every time Jean smoothed his hand up the base of his spine. Kissing his partner with everything he could muster, the brunette buried his face in the crook of his neck. Riding the brutal force that was hammering into him with trained precision, Marco's breathing became more shallow and his hips stuttered.

Catching the subtle changes in the way the brunette's body was reacting, Jean brushed his lips against his lovers' ear. "You gonna cum baby?"

Nodding, Marco bit his lip as his partner pressed into him deeper with a roll of his hips while their stomachs pushed together; trapping his aching cock between them. "Yes, oh God, I'm going to fucking cum."

"Can you hold on just a minute longer? I'm almost there too."

Shaking his head, the brunette pulled back and gazed into his lovers eyes. "Please, hurry Jean. I can't keep up anymore."

"Fuck," the blonde said past gritted teeth. "You're so fucking perfect Marco. God, I love you."

"J-Jean," Marco stuttered feeling his body give out and his climax take him. "Fuck! I'm--!"

Clawing into Jean's back, the brunette arched off the bed only to be caught in the crushing grip of his partner as they both were overtaken by their combine orgasm. With two final thrusts, the blonde slammed square into Marco's prostate with a growl and came harder than he ever had. The electricity running up his spine pummeled the intern; wave after wave. He could feel Marco's thighs trembling while the rest of his body went limp and his lungs heaved in air. He could feel his heart racing under that lovely bronze skin of his that was painted with a galaxy of freckles that begged to be kissed.

Collapsing onto him after carefully pulling out, the blonde nestled into his partners' chest. He loved how warm he was and how his natural smell of smoky woods intensified both during and after sex. Marco was so mind-blowing in his perfection that it was unreal at times. That such a person was alive and holding him tight was enough to make his head spin. Holding the man close, Jean tilted his head up to kiss him on the jaw.

"I am never letting you go Marco," Jean said softly; almost as a whisper. "I love you too much."

Biting his lip as a tear fell over his cheek, Marco smiled. "I love you too Jean."

"Always?"

Kissing him on the forehead, Marco pulled him closer. "Always."

.......7 days until the team reports back.......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So these two chapters (this one and the next) are an atmospheric ode to Northern California. When I first moved to the west coast, I thought California was just a collection of vast beaches, simmering hot valleys, and picturesque deserts with the occasional mountainscape thrown in. However, it wasn't until a few years back that I discovered the beauty Northern California has to offer. In this fic, I modeled Jeans' interests around some of my own that I had growing up in rural North Carolina. He's a camper, an avid hiker and rock climber, and doesn't mind getting lost in the vast expanses of the wilderness. As such, the music on this playlist is set to match his mood while exploring the great outdoors. So here, from me to you, is the Open Road List.
> 
> **The Wild List**
> 
> -"Into The Wild" by LP  
> -"Mountain Sound" Of Monsters and Men  
> -"Ice On The Wings" by Nada Surf  
> -"Weightless" by Nada Surf  
> -"You Are Lightning" by Nada Surf  
> -"Priscilla" by Sea Wolf  
> -"Kasper" by Sea Wolf  
> -"Blue Stockings" by Sea Wolf  
> -"Dear Fellow Traveller" by Sea Wolf  
> -"You're A Wolf" by Sea Wolf  
> -"Black Dirt" by Sea Wolf  
> -"The Cold, The Dark & The Silence" by Sea Wolf  
> -"Neutral Ground" by Sea Wolf  
> -"Turn The Dirt Over" by Sea Wolf  
> -"World At Large" by Modest Mouse  
> -"Float On" by Modest Mouse  
> -"One Chance" by Modest Mouse  
> -"The Good Times Are Killing Me" by Modest Mouse  
> -"Missed The Boat" by Modest Mouse  
> -"All I Believe In" by The Magic Numbers  
> -"How Can You Swallow So Much Sleep" by Bombay Bicycle Club  
> -"The Cave" by Mumford & Sons  
> -"Little Lion Man" by Mumford & Sons  
> -"Beneath The Sun" by Josh Kempen  
> -"Pistol" by Josh Kempen  
> -"The River" by Josh Kempen  
> -"Counting Stars" by OneRepublic  
> -"Down In The Valley" by The Head and the Heart  
> -"Cats And Dogs" by The Head and the Heart  
> -"Boy With A Coin" by Iron & Wine  
> -"House By The Sea" by Iron & Wine  
> -"Faded From Winter" by Iron & Wine  
> -"Each Coming Night" by Iron & Wine  
> -"Slow Life" by Grizzly Bear  
> -"Yet Again" by Grizzly Bear  
> -"Service Bell" by Grizzly Bear feat. Feist  
> -"The Bad In Each Other" by Feist  
> -"Caught A Long Wind" by Feist  
> -"The Circle Married The Line" by Feist  
> -"Bittersweet Melodies" by Feist  
> -"Comfort Me" by Feist  
> -"Pine Moon" by Feist  
> -"Train Song" by Benjamin Gibbard & Feist  
> -"Full Moon" by The Black Ghosts  
> -"Let's Get Lost" by Beck and Bat For Lashes  
> -"Hearing Damage" by Thom Yorke  
> -"Ophelia" by The Lumineers  
> -"Let Her Go" by Passenger  
> -"Renegades" by X Ambassadors


	9. Para Voce, Minha Lua

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys wrap up their camping trip and Jean meets the Bott brood...
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> ABOUT THE TITLE: So, as ya'll know, Marco's parents are both Latin American and he and Ymir grew up speaking English, Spanish, and Portuguese. The title of this chapter is called Para Voce, Minha Lua which roughly translates to "To You, My Moon" in Portuguese. 
> 
> HEADS UP!!!!: There will be a LOT of Portuguese being spoken in this since the majority of Marco's family is from Brazil. The translated quotes are in the End Notes but please understand that I am not a native speaker and had to use a translator to get this dialogue. I apologize to anyone who is a native speaker. I hope I didn't butcher your beautiful language.
> 
> GREETING'S!: Salut mes amis! Comment ca va? Bein? I hope all of you have been doing swimmingly. I apologize for taking so long to update this fic. Life has been a bit crazy lately and my mother was recently admitted to the hospital so it's been difficult to do anything except tend to the fam. But everything is smoothing out now so I was able to get this chapter finished. I hope ya'll enjoy it!
> 
> A tout a l'heure!
> 
> -Mars <3

The fire crackled in the pit and embers fluttered up into the dark evening sky, dancing on the breeze before disappearing like fireflies on the current. Slumbering int the hammock set up a foot or so away from the dimming blaze was Jean. He was thoroughly exhausted from their long hike down to Gold Bluffs Beach and back after spending the entire afternoon exploring the coast. The moment they got back to camp, he flopped down in the fabric swing, stretched out like a fat lazy cat, and fell asleep quicker than the wind putting out a candle.

Looking up from his sketchbook, Marco chuckled faintly as his lover lifted a hand to rub his eye in his sleep. It was their last night away. Come tomorrow morning, they'd pack up the car and say goodbye to this paradise of the untamed north. So savoring every second they had left in the only way he knew how, Marco captured the moments in his sketchbook--drawing everything from a family of elk lounging in the tall grass to a particularly large banana slug chilling on a fern near their tent yesterday morning. Ymir would like that one since she was fascinated by the creatures. Following that were negative space charcoal drawings of the treeline at midnight with the stars twinkling above the empty meadow, a picture of an owl in its hiding hole, and a landscape shot of Charity Falls.

However, of all the pictures he had transferred from his brain onto paper, the ones of Jean were his favorite. The man was beautiful; as ethereal in his allure as the day they had first met. Capturing everything from the subtle curve of his lip to the trio of beauty marks that dotted his neck down to his collarbone, all of it was immortalized. Taking a moment to appreciate the blonde, Marco smiled fondly as he recounted everything that had led them to this point. Never had he been so happy or comfortable with a partner. There was always something clouding the waters but now everything was crystal clear.

Coming out of his reverie just as Jean stirred from his sleep, the brunette went back to his sketch. Meanwhile, the young doctor groaned as he stretched his tired limbs and cracked the aching joints of his stiff back and neck. Blinking back the sleep from his golden amber eyes, Jean sat up; wiping the trickle of drool from his mouth. Spotting Marco acting like he hadn't been staring at him, the blonde chuckled and rose to his feet once he had full use of his legs. He knew his partner drew him whenever he wasn't paying attention; usually in his sleep or while he was reading before they went to bed. And he also knew that Marco knew that he knew.

Closing the distance between them, Jean circled around Marco to peek over his shoulder at the sketch. Resting his chin on the brunettes shoulder, he pivoted his head just enough to kiss the man on the warm skin of his neck. Gently breathing in the distinct yet subtle scent of smoke and wood musk that clung to his bronze flesh, Jean nuzzled into his lover then let his gaze return to the picture of himself.

"You know, one of these days I'm going to ask you to draw me like one of your French girls," Jean quipped.

Snorting a laugh, Marco turned his head to kiss Jean on the nose. "French men," he said with emphasis on the last word. "You ready to call it a night?"

"Mhmm."

"'Kay," the brunette smiled as he closed the sketchbook. Standing up, he slung an arm around Jeans' shoulder and brought him in closer. "Lets hit the hay."

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

After another hike down to the Fern Canyon and a lazy late morning swim in the lake, the two men packed up camp and began the long drive back home. Racing alongside the coastline, they stopped at various spots along the way. Swinging by San Francisco to grab a couple loaves of sourdough bread shaped like turtles and a quick bite to eat in Ghirardelli Square--lobster bisque in a bread bowl and a slice of dark chocolate raspberry cheesecake--they said farewell to the bustling city just shy of 3:30.

Taking a detour through Monterey to nab a few souvenirs at Cannery Row and watch the humpback whales as they swam by on their yearly migration up the coast, Jean gave Marco the keys as they had agreed early in the day and took a small nap while the brunette drove the last length of their journey. At various points, the blonde would wake up for bathroom breaks or to tell his partner that he was hungry. As the sun began to set, the couple took a break from their trek in Santa Barbara. Walking to the end of the boardwalk, they watched the gleaming orb blink once more before saying goodnight and dipping below the horizon leaving the sky painted in deep hues of pink, burnt orange, violet, and moody blue.

With their fingers woven together, Jean leaned against Marco--feeling his steady breaths move through his chest. Shivering as a cool onshore wind barreled through the wharf, the blonde pushed in closer. Catching the sound of Marco's deep laughter, Jean smiled appreciatively when his partner moved so that he was fully wrapped around him--chest to Jean's back with his jacket pulled around them both and his arms fixed across the interns stomach. Lingering like that in the comfortable silence, they listened to the gulls cry in the distance and the waves breaking while watching the water roll back out into the vast blue expanse of the ocean.

"You know I could stay like this forever with you," Marco murmured, his warm breath dancing over the cool skin of Jeans neck.

Humming at the statement, Jean closed his eyes when he felt the arms around his waist tighten. "I could go for that."

"Yeah?"

Chuckling, the blonde nodded. "Yeah." Pausing for a long moment, he watched a pelican bobbing on the undulating water for a moment before continuing. "I'm going to miss you. Part of me already does but it's going to be even harder to let you go on Monday."

Nuzzling into Jean's neck like a shy child hiding in their mothers' dress, Marco cleared his throat of the building nerves before speaking. "Hey, I was wondering about something."

"Hmm?"

"I was wondering, at least during fire season, if you wanted to maybe spend the weeks I'm home at my place and during off season we could switch between houses. I mean, that's if you want to."

"Are you trying to ask me to partially move in with you?" Jean chuckled as he turned to look at Marco over his shoulder. Spotting the brunette as he tried to hide his blushing face, the intern's smile only grew. "Marco?"

"Yeah, I'm asking you to partially move in with me," he mumbled into his partners' neck. "I know it's early and you love your place which is why I thought we could split our time between the two. But I....I just...God this is so embarrassing."

Knowing that the brunette couldn't say anymore without falling to pieces, Jean flipped around completely so that he could loop his arms around Marco's neck to pull him into a soft tender kiss. Combing his hands through the mans' wavy chestnut brown hair, he took a long moment to admire his partner and how sweet he looked when he was flustered.

"It's alright. I know what you're trying to say."

"You do?"

Nodding, Jean bit his lip with a small smile. "Yeah and I'm definitely up for it."

"Oh thank God," Marco sighed in relief. "I was freaking out because I thought you'd freak out or say no."

"I doubt I could say no to you at this point," the blonde said flatly. "You're my only weakness."

"Dido."

Pressing their foreheads together for a brief moment, Jean kissed him again. "So when do you want me to kinda move in?"

"We could start on Sunday if you're okay with it."

"Baby, I'm more than okay with it."

"Cool," Marco smiled brightly as if fireworks had been set off in the depths of his deep brown eyes. Pecking the blonde once more on the lips, he brought him in for a hug. "I wish I had another week. I don't want to go back to work yet. I'm not ready to let you go."

"A week? Baby, even an extra month wouldn't cut it for me. But we both have jobs that need to be done and as much as I hate letting go of you, I know you'll come home. It's just the waiting part that sucks."

"Tell me about it."

Holding Marco close with one hand pressed into the space between his shoulders, Jean lifted the other to cup the nape of the brunette's neck. "I'm sure this'll get easier over time. Or at least I hope it will."

"Maybe. I don't think I'll ever stop missing you though."

"Well we got to figure something out," the blonde laughed. Shivering as an ocean breeze blew in, Jean sighed thankfully as Marco pulled him closer. "There has to be some solution to this because I can't be constantly depressed at work whenever you're out on a job."

Humming as he thought, Marco rested his cheek atop Jean's head while tightening his hold around the intern. "Well we already call, text, and facetime each other. I'm not sure what else there is apart from taking you with me." Chuckling when the blonde grunted a "no", he smirked. "Yeah, didn't think you'd be up for that. But you know, you could always visit me during the day at the station if I'm just on-call. Hitch stops by all the time to see Marlo and Levi checks in on Mika and I too from time to time."

"I can do that?"

Nodding when Jean's head shot up to look at him with wide eyes, the brunette kissed his partner on the forehead. "Yeah, you can visit. And if we behave ourselves, you can stay over one night if it's slow and Marlo approves."

Smiling like the sun, Jean bounced in Marco's arms then nuzzled into the mans' chest. "Thank you!"

"You're welcome," Marco said with an equally bright smile. Parting from him, he kissed Jean's forehead then took the intern's hand in his. "Come on, we better get going before the roads clog up with the commuters heading inland."

Huddling close so that he could continue to leech off his lovers' body heat, Jean leaned against Marco as they walked back to the car. They didn't have that much further to go but if they waited anymore then they definitely would get caught in the late rush hour traffic and that was anything but welcomed. All Jean wanted to do was get back to the house and collapse onto his bed. Since Marco was spending the night they didn't have to drive the added half hour to La Canada which meant more time relaxing and unwinding. So the sooner they got moving the better.

Taking the keys from Marco since it was his turn to drive, the intern slid into the drivers seat and turned on the engine. Browsing through the music library on his phone, Jean was searching for one song in particular. He couldn't understand why but he had a strong urge to listen to Ellie Goulding's cover of "Tessellate." Locating the song, the young man selected it, cranked the volume up, and put the car into drive. Breathing easy as the mellow vocals eased him, Jean said goodbye to Santa Barbara and that beautiful violet, pink, and blue sunset.

An hour and a half later, the car pulled up to Jean's quaint cozy beach house. Parking in the empty driveway, the intern was almost grateful that his housemate was gone for the evening. As much as he loved Eren, Jean didn't want to put up with his prying eyes and waggling eyebrows. 

Leaving unpacking the car until tomorrow, the blonde shrugged the strap of his old Yale Track duffel bag onto his shoulder and fumbled with the keys in his hand while trying to remember which opened the front door. Behind him, Marco yawned with his own bag slung across his chest. Leaning over, the brunette rested his forehead against Jean's shoulder with a small groan. For the last half hour of their drive, Marco had been nursing a headache and it had spiked during the final stretch leading to the house.

Unlocking the door, Jean flipped on the inset floodlights instead of the main lights since it would only make his partners headache worse. Telling the brunette to go change into his sleeping pants then to lay down, the intern checked his answering machine--groaning when he heard his mom come on to remind him that he had to come home soon to see his newborn nephew. Following that were the typical notices from the doctors' office to confirm his appointment for next week, the dentist saying he was overdue for a routine cleaning, and two other voicemail's from his mother and one from his sister Stella with the cooing from little baby Mathieu in the background as she said, "Guess who wants to say hi?"

Smiling as he heard his sisters' voice, Jean saved the recording instead of deleting it. It had been almost a year since he had been back home but work as an intern didn't allow for much free time. Once he was a resident, Jean would be able to go back to New York and spend some quality time with his mother and sister. However, until then, they'd have deal with the weekend trips he planned on taking at the start of August. After all, it was only proper to introduce his partner to the family.

After checking the voicemail, the young man cleaned off in the bathroom, changed into his sleeping pants and shirt, then grabbed two extra strength Tylenol and a glass of water and headed to the bedroom. Curled up on his side with an anguished expression painting his features was Marco. The headache had evolved into a migraine and the slightest sound or flash of light had him whimpering. Groaning when Jean turned on the light on the dresser across the room, the brunette rotated away from the illumination.

"Sorry hun but I couldn't see where I was going," Jean spoke quietly as he came around the foot of the bed. Sitting down next to Marco, he smoothed the hair away from the mans' pain stricken face. "Are you able to sit up? I have two Tylenol that should help."

Sniffling back the tears the massive migraine was pushing forward, Marco sat up and took the two pills; downing them with the cool glass of water Jean offered him. "This was not how I wanted to end the evening," the brunette whined as he reclined back onto his side of the bed. "Sorry babe for killing the mood."

"Don't worry about it. It's not like you planned this." Leaning over, Jean kissed him on the forehead then laughed when Marco pulled him down onto the bed.

"Stay like this tonight, please?" Marco murmured against the smooth skin of Jean's nape as he curled in around the young man; locking them together with his arms woven across the blondes stomach and his face nestled against the back of his neck.

With a gentle smile, Jean shifted back into Marco's chest. "Whatever you want baby." Reaching onto the nightstand, the blonde grabbed the remote to turn the light off on the dresser and to turn on the ceiling fan. Sinking back into his partners' warmth, Jean brought one of Marco's hands to his lips to kiss the back of it. "Love you," he said then watched as the clock on the nightstand changed from 11:59, Friday to 12:00 Saturday morning. "Happy birthday Marco."

Kissing the back of Jean's head, Marco buried himself in the comforting heat of his lovers' body. "I love you too. See you in the morning baby."

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

The alarm sounded from Jean's phone on the nightstand next to the bed. He had set it low enough that it wouldn't wake Marco when it went off. However, the problem now, it seemed, wasn't waking up; it was getting up. Ever since their first night together, the brunette had developed a habit of curling around his partner in his sleep. Whether it be laying atop him with face pressed against the blondes' chest and arms outstretched or literally curled onto his side clinging to Jean, Marco refused to detach himself from the young man. And while it was endearing, Jean had breakfast to make.

Attempting to peel himself away from Marco's vice grip, the blonde found the task to be easier said than done. Each and every time he tried to shift or slip out of his lovers' arms, the man immediately brought him back in. The fourth failed attempt was accompanied by a tired groan from Marco. Pausing for a moment, Jean contemplated pinching the brunette's nose shut for a second until he scrambled away for air. But that would spoil the morning. Doing his best not to sound like a grouch, the intern ducked his head down and kissed Marco's ear.

"Hun, I need to get up to make breakfast."

Groaning, now clearly displeased, Marco nuzzled his face into the warmth of Jean's stomach. "Nooo," he protested with a childlike pout. "You stay right here."

Rolling his eyes with a smile as he ran his fingers through those silken brown waves, Jean laughed. "Come on, don't be a brat."

"It's my birthday and I say you stay here."

"Fine, but don't get pissy when you're hungry later."

"Yes," the brunette smiled victoriously. Sighing happily when Jean flopped back against the bed, Marco pulled him in closer. "And you don't need to make breakfast because my mom has a big family brunch whenever there's a birthday in the house. We can head over in an hour or so since I doubt anyone's there yet. Well, except for mom and dad; maybe Ymir too."

"Wait, so we're going to your parents' place for breakfast?"

"Mhmm. More like lunch really."

"You do know this means I'll be meeting your parents, babe."

Nodding once, Marco smirked lazily. "Yuuuup," he affirmed with a playful spark in his dreamy brown eyes. "You don't mind, do you?"

Looking down into those beautiful glistening doe eyes, Jean couldn't find it in him to protest. "No, not really. It's just none of the guys I've been with in the past have taken me home to meet their parents."

"No worries, you'll be fine. Just don't interfere with my mom when she's in the kitchen. She enjoys being a hostess a bit too much and gets a little crazy when people try to help her out with the cooking."

"Sounds familiar," Jean teased. Earning a gentle jab from Marco, he just laughed then bent down to kiss the side of his head. "I wasn't saying it's a bad thing. It's just you get a little touchy when it comes to cooking."

"Food is a way of life in Brazil, babe. You never mess with a mans grill."

"I'll keep that in mind." Sinking into the pillows with an arm draped over the back of his shoulders with his fingertips playing with the ends of the mans hair, the intern breathed out quietly. "When did you want to shower and start getting dressed?"

"What time is it?"

Glancing at his phone, the blonde answered, "Ten-thirty."

"Then we'll get up in an hour. For now, can we just relax and sleep a bit more."

Nodding, Jean pulled Marco closer and sat up just to kiss the top of his head. "Yeah, we can do that."

"Thanks love."

"No problem hun."

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It had been a long time since he had felt this nauseous but Jean was somewhere between wanting to throw up and run away. But he had already walked the five blocks to Marco's parents' house; it was wild to think they he lived in the same neighborhood as them. Approaching the large wooden doors of the front porch of the Spanish Colonial style home with a perfectly manicured lawn, Jean felt his partner slip his hand into his own sweaty grasp before opening the gate. 

Music could be heard from down the block but once the rustic door leading to the entrance courtyard and patio had been opened the noise came at full blast. Bombarded by what had to be some variation of samba and the clamoring of various people talking at different pitches and in different dialects. There was Spanish, Portuguese, English, and what sounded like French and all of it was echoing from the backyard and from within the house.

Hanging out by the front door smoking cigarillos was trio of young men--all tan, tall, and dark haired. However, they all were distinctly different from one another. One was well-built with a full beard and his long curly black hair pulled back into a bun. Another was slim, freckled, and clean shaven with his shaggy hair in an unkempt pompadour. The last was sporting colorful sleeve tattoo's on both arms and was in between trims because his buzzcut was growing in thick.

First to spot Marco was the slender and presumably younger male of the group. Eyes growing bright when he saw them coming up the path, the man shrugged away from the stone surface of the wall he had been leaning against. Closing the distance between them in no time he brought Marco in for a tight loving hug. Reaching up, he then angled the brunettes head down so that he could kiss his forehead. Parting with their hands on each others' shoulder, Marco and the young man smiled at one another.

"E bom ver voce primo," the young man beamed. "Como foi a vida?"

Patting him on the shoulder, Marco smiled. "Eu estive bem. There's someone I want you guys to meet." Taking Jean's hand in his--giving a reassuring squeeze to calm the blonde's nerves--he turned back to the young man. "Nico, this is my boyfriend Jean. Jean, this is my cousin Nicolas."

Shaking the mans' hand, Jean tried to give his best smile. "Nice to meet you Nicolas."

"Call me Nico. My father's Nicolas; literally." Turning to look at the two other men behind him, Nico jerked his chin at the man with the beard, "That's my older brother Lorenzo. The asshole next to him with the sleeves is Salvador but you can call him Sally."

"Fuck you Nico," Salvador sneered from his spot on the doorstep. Approaching Jean, he took hold of the interns hand and shook it with crushing force. "Just Sal is fine. Nice to meet you Jean. We've heard a lot about you."

"Fuck, please say it isn't all bad," Jean said without thinking.

Laughing, Salvador shook his head. "Nah, it's all good."

"I'll say," Lorenzo, the oldest of the three, spoke as he approached the group and shook the blonde's hand. "Good to meet ya' man." Looking to Marco, the burly tree of a man smiled and captured his cousin in a headlock and playfully ruffled his head. "Voce cachorro. Levei o suficiente para nos apresentar a ele!" Looking away from the brunette who was trying to free himself, Lorenzo smirked. "Come on in, Jean. Everyone's been waiting to meet the man capable enough of handling this brat."

Slipping out of the headlock, Marco jabbed him in the gut just enough to cause mild discomfort. "That's for jumping me." Reclaiming his partners' hand, the brunette jerked his chin in the direction of the front door. "Shall we?"

"Not like I can turn tail now," Jean chuckled. "After you babe."

With a wink, Marco led him inside; ignoring the catcalls and wolf whistles coming from his cousin. Almost immediately after they had stepped foot into the house, the couple was at the center of everyone's attention. Relatives--old and young and by the dozen--came flocking to the brunette to wish him a happy birthday then congratulate him on his relationship. A quartet of older women, most likely aunts in their mid sixties, pinched Marco's cheeks noting how cute he still was before turning their attention to his boyfriend. Poking his cheeks and admiring how handsome he was, one woman asked in Portuguese if the intern was the marrying type while another woman held the blonde's face in her wrinkled hands so that she could get a better look at his eyes--noting that those were the gateway to a persons soul.

After the aunts swiftly came the young female cousins who were practically swooning over Jean and his "pretty face." Teasing Marco about how he always got the cute boys, one girl--probably in her late teens--asked in Spanish if Jean had any brothers. Shaking his head, the brunette chuckled answering her with a "No, solo una hermana." Pouting as she clung to his arm, she looked at Jean and wished him and Marco happiness in their relationship. Ignoring the way her eyes were combing over him, the blonde just smiled, cleared his throat, then thanked her. 

It was just as Marco was about to speak that a loud bellowing voice sounded from across the living room. Exiting the kitchen was an absurdly tall woman with long wavy black hair flecked with grey split down the center, copper brown eyes, and faint freckles across her nose. Spotting Marco within seconds, a bright perfectly white smile stretched across her heart-shaped face before her pillowy lips parted to release a loud cry. Bounding across the living space, she wrapped her arms around the brunette's frame; squeezing him tight enough that he had to gasp for air.

"Meu bebezinho!" the woman exclaimed while swaying back and forth with Marco in her arms. "E tao bom ver voce dochino! Eu senti tanto sua falta."

Responding back in what Jean recognized as Portuguese, Marco hugged her back with a warm loving smile. "Eu tambem senti sua falta mae."

"Is this him?" she asked in a richly accented tone as she turned to face the intern.

Nodding, Marco placed his palm on the flat of Jean's back; right between the shoulders. "Mom, this is Jean. Jean," the brunette said as he then looked from his partner to his mother, "this is my mother, Anita."

Unable to stop his eyes from widening from disbelief, the young man shook her hand. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"It's mutual Jean. Marco has told me so much about you, I've been wondering when he would bring you home."

"Mom," her son groaned.

"Don't start with me mister. All you do is talk about 'Jean this, Jean that' but you never brought him around."

"Wow, you talk about me that often?" Jean chuckled; his ego growing just a smidgen. 

"Yeah, it's kinda getting gross actually," chimed a familiar voice.

Whipping around, Jean was met by the gaze of Ymir; his boss who he had almost forgotten was his partners' older sister. Smirking like the devil, the woman crossed the other half of the living room that laid beyond the foyer by the kitchen with a margarita in one hand and the other shoved in her pant pocket. Dressed down in a pair of black linen culottes, a white t-shirt knotted at the waist, and a pair of woven cognac brown leather mule slide shoes, she looked like a completely different person. Here she wasn't the hard-nosed stoic surgeon that could easily whip Jean into submission. Right now, she was just a devious older sister that looked hell bent on embarrassing her little brother.

Smirking when she saw the momentary flicker of fear in her interns' eyes, Ymir shook her head. "We're off the clock Kirstein. Chill, will ya'?"

"Sorry. It's just my gut instinct to be on edge whenever you're in the room."

"Good. That means I've trained you well. But for right now, just forget about that and relax."

Stifling a laugh, Anita covered her mouth with one hand. "Wait, Ymir sweetie, is this the intern you were telling me about?"

"One of them," the young surgeon wagged a single brow before taking a sip from her drink. "The other isn't here. Come to think of it, this is the first time I've seen you without Jaeger glued to your hip."

"Really, was that necessary?" Jean shot back looking unimpressed. "Just because we're friends doesn't mean we do everything together."

"Yeah but still. You two are like Batman and Robin except less graceful and more nervous."

"And you're like a customs officer with a score to settle," Jean quipped without even thinking about it.

Snorting a laugh before falling into a full-blown cackle, Ymir hunched over and braced one hand on her knee. "Too right! You know, you're pretty funny once you take that pole out of your ass."

"And you're easy to get along with when you don't have resting bitch face."

"Right again," Ymir smirked while pointing the index finger of her drink hand at Jean. "Good to see you Jean. Grab a drink and relax." Turning halfway around, she kissed her brother on the cheek. "Feliz aniversario garoto."

Kissing her back on the cheek, Marco smiled. "Obrigado sis."

Parting from Marco, she added, "Dad's outside grilling. You should go introduce him to Jean."

"Will do. Oh yeah. Is Krista around?"

"Yeah, she's outside hanging out with Ramona, Ilse, and grandma."

"Which grandma?" Marco asked almost warily.

"Frieda."

Cursing under his breath, Marco groaned. "Great, now I gotta deal with gram's prodding."

Smacking her son on the arm, Anita shushed him. "She's your grandmother Marco and she loves you and won't be alive forever. Go out there and talk to her."

"Fine," he whined like a spoiled child.

"And be nice," his mother urged with a stern tone as she shook her patterned hand towel at him. "Remember your manners too. She's old and doesn't like you using bad language."

"I know mom."

Staring at her boy a second longer with a skeptical gaze, Anita huffed in satisfaction. "Good." Facing the intern, she smiled. "It was lovely meeting you Jean. We can talk later after dinner, okay?"

"Sounds good to me," Jean nodded.

Following Marco through the house, the intern ignored Ymir attempting to muffle her signature cackle and Anita as she said "I hope I don't have to wait forever for them to get married like I did with you" to which her daughter grumbled under her breath. Tightening his grip on the brunette, Jean dodged one family member after another while trying to hold back the look of disbelief that wanted to make an appearance. There were so many people present, it was almost hard to believe that they were all related to his partner. Then again, they all shared a commonality with him in one way or another. 

Whether it be a band of freckles across the face, deep brown eyes, a glistening smile, or a wicked sense of humor, everyone in the family could be traced back to Marco. Even the in-laws fit in and blended with the brood as if they had always belonged. Jean had to wonder if any of those who married in were just as nervous as he was when they had first met the family. Surely he couldn't be the only person experiencing the massive culture shock.

Exiting the house after navigating the crowd of well-wisher's and grabby aunts and cousins seeking to give Marco a kiss on the cheek, the intern sighed in relief as they stepped onto the veranda of the back patio. In front of him was a grand double staircase that circled around a large relief fountain that flowed into the massive pool below them. Mouth agape as his eyes spanned the length of the terraced backyard, Jean was at a total loss for words. Sure the kids back in middle school used to call him a "rich bitch" because his parents were relatively well-off and they lived in a somewhat spacious house. However, this house made Jean's childhood home look like a one-bedroom cottage.

"Marco!" shouted a voice from down below. 

There were so many people that could have called him but the bellowing tone belonged to a petite woman with freckles, expressive brown eyes, and shoulder length black hair. Handing her newborn to the blonde woman that had been sitting next to her, the young lady ran across the deck of the pool area and jumped Marco right as he stepped onto the terrace. Hooking her arms around his neck with a smile brighter than the sun, she laughed wildly as he captured her in a hug then spun her in a short circle. Kissing her forehead, Marco set the woman down with a smirk then pinched her nose. She was so much shorter than him--almost a whole foot--but had double his energy which said a lot.

"I missed you so much! Happy birthday Marco."

Ruffling her hair, the brunette smiled. "I missed you too. Oh," turning to Jean, Marco smiled, "Jean this is my cousin Ilse Langnar. She's my aunt Belinda's youngest daughter. Ilse, this is my boyfriend Jean."

"It's a pleasure," the young man smiled as he shook her hand.

Bouncing on the balls of her feet, she beamed brightly as she shook his hand. "I can't believe I'm finally meeting you. Ymir's told me a lot and you're even cuter in person." There then came a sudden spark as something came to mind. Turning to her cousin, Ilse bit back her bottom lip as her grin widened. "Did you want to see your godson?"

"He's here?" Marco asked, his eyes alight with wonder. When Ilse nodded, he smiled back. "Where's the little monster?"

Hooking elbows with both men, Ilse led them back to where she had been sitting before they arrived. There, nestled in the arms of an equally petite fair-haired tanned teen, was Ilse's son, Joaquin. Clothed in a pair of baby-sized jeans, little black converse high tops, and a black Star Wars sweater with a pile of brown curls atop his head, the child was the coolest kid there; his attire clearly being his mother's handiwork.

"How's my favorite gremlin?" Marco spoke lovingly as he took the baby in his arms, playing with the child's foot as it smiled back at him and giggled. "Hey kiddo. Have you been behaving for your mom and dad like I told you last time?" Turning to Jean who was looking over his shoulder, the brunette smiled and pivoted to the side. "Hey Joaquin, you see this really cool looking guy? That's cousin Jean. Say hi."

Chuckling when Marco lifted the baby's hand and waved it at him, Jean smirked. "Nice to meet you Joaquin," the blonde said as the child grabbed his index finger and "shook" it. "He's got a good grip. Bet he'll be one hell of a climber when he's older."

"Already is," Ilse said with a look that was somewhere between tired and humored. "He's only six months old and he's crawling everywhere and trying to climb the furniture."

"The kid moves fast," Jean laughed as Joaquin chewed on his finger despite having only two teeth. "Sorry little guy, you can't eat me."

"I think he likes you," Marco smirked as he gently bounced the baby in his arms causing it to laugh. 

Looking to the child, the brunette made a silly face with wide eyes. Watching as Joaquin grabbed his partner by the hair that framed his face, Jean couldn't stop himself from smiling nor could he help but think of how natural it looked for Marco to have a child in his arms. The man had always been great with kids--it was something he had noticed the numerous times he had come by the hospital for a visit and had been caught off guard by a kid admiring the zip-up hoodie with his stations emblem on the back. Maybe they flocked to him because he was somewhat of a kid himself except bigger and with more responsibilities. Or maybe it was his warm smile and welcoming eyes that made him easy to approach. Either way, Jean could understand why people of all ages would find themselves at ease around the man.

After another minute or two of chatting with Ilse and playing with baby Joaquin, Marco handed the little one back to his mother. Grasping his partners' hand in his, the brunette led him through the people dancing to the lively samba music playing. On the other side of the terrace was a pair of figures that were deep in conversation. The first was a slim yet fit blonde woman with the bluest eyes Jean had ever seen and her hair pulled back into a neat bun. Drinking a beer straight from the bottle as she leaned against the railing overlooking the second terrace, she was a vision of cool and relaxation. Beside her manning the grill was a tall tanned gentleman with thick wavy black hair that had grayed behind his ears and laugh that could be heard all the way across the patio.

Catching sight of the two young men approaching them, the blonde woman stuck her hand up and waved. Polishing off her drink with one swift chug, she set the bottle down then pushed away from the railing so that she could meet them halfway. Dressed down in a pair of dark skinny jeans, a loose white t-shirt knotted at her right hip, and a pair of cognac brown cage sandals, the young woman was clearly not the high-maintenance type with the most expensive thing on her being that impressive classic Tiffany's diamond engagement ring with a platinum setting. Whoever was her better half obviously thought very highly of her.

Capturing Marco in a loving almost familiar hug, the woman smiled. "Good to see you back home in one piece."

"Back at ya' captain," the brunette chuckled.

Looking behind him, her expression brightened when she caught sight of the intern. "You must be Jean." Extending her hand, the blonde introduced herself. "I'm Krista Lenz, Ymir's fiancee. It's nice to finally have a face to put with the name."

Shaking her hand, Jean tried to stop the nervous lump from forming in his throat. "Does everyone know about me here?" he asked sheepishly.

"Yeah, nothing really stays a secret in this family but you'll get used to it. Don't worry though," Krista slapped him on the arm. "None of the gossip about you has been bad. She may be a hard-ass but Ymir's been talking you up to everyone that asks about you. Pretty sure it's safe to say you're one of her better interns."

"That's comforting to know."

Shrugging, Krista stepped to the side. "It is what it is. Anyways, I think Marco has someone more important he's been wanting to introduce you to."

As she spoke, the man that was working the barbecue some several feet away had closed the distance between them. When Jean turned to see who she was looking at he was greeted by a strangely familiar face. The guy clearly wasn't Marco but the two looked so much alike it was unnerving. However, their face shapes were different and their eyes were as well. Marco's were a kind welcoming shade of coppery brown that deepened near the edges just like his mothers. This man however had intense dark brown eyes that were unreadable yet held a warmth to them that flickered somewhere in the depths before vanishing completely. 'I know those eyes,' Jean thought. And not just that, he knew his face but couldn't put his finger on how or why. He just instinctively knew that they had met somewhere before.

"Jean Kirstein I take it," the man said with a playfulness to his tone; his deep voice an odd alchemy of commanding and comforting.

Taking the hand that was extended to him, the young man nodded. "Speaking. And you'd be?"

"Horatio Bott," he smiled before shooting Marco a quick glance. "I'm that one's father."

"Ah," Jean nearly choked. No wonder he looked like a man of power. He was currently shaking hands with the chief commissioner of the fire department for Southern California.

"I think you broke him dad," Marco laughed as he smoothed the flat of his hand up and down Jean's back in a soothing manner.

Shaking his head, the intern forced his mouth to start working again. "Sorry. It's just you look oddly familiar; I thought you were someone else. But it's an honor to meet you."

Laughing almost in the same way Marco did--snapping his head with a gentle shake--Horatio smirked. "You don't have to be so formal Jean. Relax and enjoy yourself. My son's told me enough about you to know I don't have to have the shotgun conversation with you."

"The what?" Jean choked with wide questioning eyes as he turned to his partner.

"Dad," the brunette groaned.

"Just being honest. Anyway," Horatio continued as if nothing in his previous statement was alarming. "Grab a beer, some food, and go socialize. You two look like you had a long day. I'll come find you boys in a bit once I wrap up with the cooking."

"Right. Love you dad."

Collecting Marco into a hug, Horatio murmured, "Te amo filho," then gave him a kiss on the forehead. "Feliz aniversario."

"Obrigado pai," Marco said back before taking Jean's hand to lead them back toward the front of the deck where Ymir and a few other now familiar faces were hanging out.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------

As the hours passed and the sun went down, the party both grew and shrank in size. People came and went as they pleased; sometimes staying just long enough to wish Marco a happy birthday while other's hung out for a while. Eventually, after mingling with various groups and making his rounds, the brunette and his partner settled into one of the pristine white couches under the elegant gazebo with the sheer linen curtains drawn back.

Curled up against Marco's side, Jean laughed as Lorenzo regaled him with stories of the childhood he spent making sure Marco didn't kill himself with one of his many reckless stunts. At his side was Nico and Ilse, who was coincidentally married to the man. Excusing herself in the middle of another tale--this time about the time Ymir broke her arm when she tried to stop Marco from building his own treehouse--Ilse kissed her husband on the forehead after he placed a loving peck on their child's nose, earning a little giggle from Joaquin. 

On the other side of the wicker table separating the couple from the cousins, Salvador strummed on his guitar while listening to the conversation at hand. Humming along to the melody, he bobbed his head to the rhythm with both eyes closed and a small smile gracing his lips. Silently mouthing the words, he noticed Jean watching his hands. Pausing, Salvador smiled.

"You play?" the man asked.

Suddenly aware that he had been asked a question, Jean nodded. "Yeah. Well, kinda. I know a little bit like the song you were playing."

"You know bossa nova?" Marco chirped with his head cocked to the side. "I didn't know that."

"Yeah, my dad taught me how to play a few songs even though I wanted to learn White Stripes songs." Smirking as the memory came back. "He said it was easier to learn than rock because of its slower pace."

Brow arching as a devious idea presented itself, Salvador leaned forward and handed Jean his guitar. "Play something for us."

"What, like right now?"

"Yeah. Maybe something for Marco."

Chuckling, Marco had to hide the cheeky tone in his voice. "I don't know, Sal. He's kinda shy about that sort of thing."

Rolling his eyes at the challenge, Jean flipped the guitar so that it rested in the position for left-handed use. "Alright, you want me to play? Sure."

"You don't have to babe," Marco said as Jean experimentally strummed the chords. "He was just messing with you."

"What, you don't like my voice anymore?" the blonde posed.

"That's not what I was saying."

"Well then quiet down and take your punishment since this is going to be for you."

Quirking a cautionary brow, Marco almost immediately flushed pink and groaned when he heard the opening chords for "The Girl From Ipanema." Of course Jean would pick that song as payback. It was the one they listened to every morning while they cooked breakfast and he had told the blonde numerous times that he loved the sound of his voice when he sang Frank Sinatra's parts.

Ignoring the teasing from his cousins, sister, and Krista, Marco tried not to die of blushing when Jean began to sing. His usually mellow smooth tone was even richer and more seductive when he belted out a tune. Despite having no formal training apart from four years of choir in elementary school and two in junior high, the man could carry a melody with ease. It also didn't help that whenever the song called for a feminine pronoun such as "she" and "her" Jean replaced it with "he" and "him."

Singing the lyrics "tall and tan and young and lovely, the boy from Ipanema goes walking and when he passes, I smile but he doesn't see," Jean couldn't help but smile when Marco joined in with the Portuguese portion of the song. Just like Jean, he too substituted the feminine lyrics for masculine the same way they did when they were at home. Despite how shy he was feeling, the brunette couldn't help the bright expression stretching across his face as they continued on; singing in perfect harmony and on tempo like they themselves had written the famous ballad. Neither of them had even noticed that the others around them had all gone quiet and were now watching in a state of awe. It wasn't until Jean had finished the closing guitar solo that the men became highly aware of the eyes lingering on them.

"What?" the intern asked as he surveyed the expressions on their faces which ranged anywhere between impressed to bewitched.

"You guys need to hurry up and get married," Krista said from her spot next to Ymir. "Like, holy fucking shit you guys are perfect for each other."

Nodding with a mild look of disbelief still lingering on her face, Ymir seconded her fiancee's statement. "It was always obvious between you two but fuck..."

"Shut up," Marco scoffed despite the faint blush on his cheeks as he threw a black and gold patterned throw pillow at her. "It's just a song we like."

"Yeah, just a song," his sister mocked after easily deflecting the cushion. "Whatever you say Casanova. Say what you want but that performance tells me otherwise."

"You're impossible Ymir," Marco groaned as he flopped back onto the couch. Sticking his tongue out in retort to Ymir when she did the same, he chuckled and knocked the toe of his shoe against the bottom of hers. "So have you guys set a date yet?"

Nodding with a small duck of the head as Salvador took the guitar from Jean, Ymir smiled softly. "Yeah, end of October."

"It's not going to be Dia de los Muertos themed is it?" Lorenzo joked.

"No," the sister said with a playful punch to his arm. "But it is going to be a small thing. Maybe I should write you off the the guest list."

"Ah whatever. You know I'm your favorite cousin."

"Yeah, totally," Ymir teased. Stretching with a yawn, the woman glanced over her shoulder and watched the sun slowly set. "Hey Marco, you don't have your phone on you right?"

Sighing with a small knowing smile, the brunette handed Jean his phone and wallet. Eyeing each other for a moment, the siblings both smirked and rose from couches. Everyone present except for Jean seemed to know exactly what was going on but didn't find it necessary to clue him in. Instead they just cheered as the brother and sister approached the pool. Rolling his eyes, Marco looked at Ymir with his back to the water as she wished him a happy birthday. Then, with a sharp shove, she shoved her baby brother into the pool before jumping in herself. Within moments of them surfacing, everyone on the deck clapped or cheered wishing him another year of good health and happiness.

Splashing Ymir after she hammer smacked the water right next to him, the two were soon joined by Krista as she cannon-balled into the dead center of the pool. Next was Lorenzo and Salvador and Rosario, Marco's second cousin on his father's side. Within a few moments more had joined them in the water--all fully clothed, though some had kicked off their shoes. However, Jean sat on the couch watching it all unfold like a scene from a movie. He wanted to jump in and have fun but the idea of going in with all of his clothes on was weird and foreign to him. This was probably something that they did every year and was likely a family tradition so it would be rude to cut in on the action. But when his eyes met Marco's who then beckoned him from the pool, Jean's resolve snapped.

Without thinking, he placed both his and Marco's wallets and phones down on the table, removed his shoes then did a running jump into the water. Breaking the surface, he floated under the cool water for a moment before pushing off the mosaic tiled bottom. Swimming up, he took a deep breath once he reached the top. Smiling bright when he saw Marco in front of him, Jean wrapped both arms around his neck and kissed him in between laughs. It was ridiculous, floating around in their pool fully dressed but it was some of the most fun he had had in years. Smoothing back the wet chocolate brown waves of his partners hair, the intern kissed his freckled forehead once then twice before hugging him tight.

"I love you Marco," Jean whispered into his ear so that only he could hear the sweet confession. Kissing his cheek as Marco held him tighter, he smiled. "Happy birthday."

.......1 day until the team reports back.......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so here's the translated dialogue from this chapter. Please note that the majority of this is taken from Google Translate and some of the slang my friends taught me. I in no way, shape, or form speak Portuguese or Spanish and I only know conversational French. If this were German, I wouldn't have to write this disclaimer but alas, Marco's family in this fic is Latin American. So please, if you speak any of these languages, understand that I do not mean any offense if I get something wrong. You can always leave a note in the comment section to let me know what I got wrong and I'll make the correction promptly. Merci!
> 
> **Translated Quote's**
> 
> -"E bom ver voce primo [...] Como foi a vida?": "Good to see you cousin. How's life been?" (Portuguese)  
> -"Voce cachorro. Levei o suficiente para nos apresentar a ele!" : "You dog. Took you long enough to introduce us to him!" (Portuguese)  
> -"Meu bebezinho! E tao bom ver voce dochino! Eu senti tanto sua falta." : "My baby boy! It's so good to see you sweetie! I've missed you so much." (Portuguese)  
> -"Feliz aniversario garoto."/ "Obrigado." : "Happy birthday kid."/ "Thanks" (Portuguese)  
> -"Te amo filho." : "Love you son."  
> -"Obrigado pai." : "Thanks dad."  
> \-------------------------------------------
> 
> So this chapter is all about the Marco and his family. Both his parents are Brazilian and he and Ymir grew up speaking English, Portuguese, and Spanish. Whenever they get together with relatives, they speak primarily in Portuguese or Spanish depending on which side of the family it is. This list reflects the energetic mood that usually ensues whenever the family gets together for parties or special occasions. It's a little shorter than the usual but the music speaks for itself. So here, from me to you, is the Dusk To Dawn List.
> 
> **Sol Abaxio**
> 
> -"Fanfarra (Cabua-Le-Le)" by Sergio Mendes  
> -"Magalenha" by Sergio Mendes  
> -"Mas Que Nada" by Sergio Mendes  
> -"Guajira (I Love You Too Much)" by Yerba Buena  
> -"Dance Like This" by Wyclef Jean feat. Claudette Ortiz of High City  
> -"El Estuche" by Aterciopelados  
> -"Represent" by Orishas  
> -"Loco" by Loving Paris  
> -"Dirty Dancing" by The Black Eyed Peas  
> -"Mas Que Nada" by Sergio Mendes feat. The Black Eyed Peas  
> -"The Girl From Ipanema" by Frank Sinatra and Antonio Carlos Jobim  
> -"So Nice" by Brasil '65 and Sergio Mendes


	10. This Side Of Heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Marco reports back for work at the station, Jean dives into the long work week ahead of him and is given one of the toughest cases he's handled involving a rebellious teen, a rabbi, and an overbearing mother. Meanwhile, Levi makes an offer that throws Eren through a loop...
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> GREETINGS!: Bonjour, Guten Tag, Hello! And welcome to Chapter 10 of Afterglow. FIRSTLY, I would like to thank everyone for their kind words and support. Its been a rough couple of months so hearing your words of encouragement helps my tired soul. I know it has been a while since I last updated this fic and chances are that my posts for all three fics may become more erratic when school starts. But we'll have to wait and see.
> 
> SECONDLY, I just wanted to give ya'll a heads up that this does take place after a three day time skip. The last chapter ended with one day until Marco leaves for the station. This chapter starts three days later with Jean at the hospital and Marco at the station. So please keep this all in mind as you read along.
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> Stay lovely and stay freaky my darlings,
> 
> -Mars<3

It had been approximately thirty-two hours since Jean's last real break and an added three since he got any real sleep. After Marco had reported back to the station on Monday morning, he decided the best thing for him to do would be to dive straight back in to work. And while Ymir protested, saying that he should reconsider working a hundred-hour week, Jean insisted. It was better than sitting at home counting the hours his partner was gone. That and his residency exams were scheduled for December so he needed to work--and learn--as much as possible unless he wanted to repeat another year as an intern.

Wrapping up reviewing and revising his patient charts over lunch, Jean headed to the nurses station to hand the files back over to Michelle who was manning the station today. Handing the blonde nurse the metal clipboards the files were attached to, the intern checked his pager to see if there were any incoming messages or reminders. Oddly enough, his afternoon was starting to look like it'd be a slow one; strange considering it was the middle of summer and surgeries were usually at the highest during the warmer months.

"Maybe it's a sign for you to drag your overworked ass back home and get some sleep," Michelle chuckled from her seat on the other side of the desk. "When was the last time you actually sat down for anything longer than an hour kid?"

Leaning against the top portion of the work station, Jean pursed his lips as he thought for a long moment. "About thirty-four hours. Maybe a little more but I'm still fine to work. I took a quick nap in the on-call room a couple hours ago so I'm good for the last leg of my shift."

"I can see the bags under your eyes Kirstein."

"And I can smell the coffee on you Michelle. How long have you been here?"

"Longer than you but I'm not the one holding the scalpel," she fired back, smirking when she saw the rebellious edge leave his eyes. It was hard to argue with a woman that had raised four kids on her own while working full-time for over thirty years. "How many hours you got left on your clock?"

"Ten. I have to run some labs and I'm scrubbing in on Ackerman's craniotomy."

"Levi's letting you assist him again? Nice job kid. His cases are usually a no-fly for interns."

"Yeah, that's what I've heard but he's let me scrub in on a couple."

"Must think you've got the chops to be a brain guy like him."

"Maybe. I don't even know what I want to specialize in yet."

"Well you better make up your mind soon. Those exams are in what? December?"

Nodding, Jean slouched forward with his arms folded across the counter, shoulders hunched, and his head down. "Yeah, they're in December and everyone in my group has pretty much figured out what they want to do. Eren's probably going to be in neuro, Sasha's doing pediatrics, Lenore and Mark are heading for ortho, and Reza said he wants to be in trauma. I'm the only one that hasn't picked a specialty. It's kinda intimidating because once you pick you can't go back; not unless you want to go through retraining and I don't have time for that."

Pausing, Michelle turned to look at the surgical board as it was being reset. Watching as Jean's name was wiped from three cardio cases, an idea happened upon her.

"What about cardiology?" the nurse mused as one of her pale blonde brows slowly arched. "You've scrubbed in on more of those cases than any of your peers and Ymir has pretty much made you her go-to intern for the tougher patients. You've obviously got talent in the field and you've already got a leg up when it comes to hands-on experience. Maybe that'd be a good fit for you."

Looking over to the board as well, the young doctor watched as a male nurse wrote out the new time schedule. "Maybe. I do like cardiothoracic's. It'll mean a four year residency though."

"So what? If you like it, it shouldn't matter how long the residency is. Just go for it and do what makes you happiest."

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Jerking away from his daydream, Jean looked down at his pager as an alert from the emergency ward came in. "Gotta go. Bott's paging me downstairs."

Smirking as he pushed away from the desk, Michelle gave a single wave goodbye. "Better hustle kid. Don't want to keep your resident waiting." Laughing when he began jogging toward the stairs with one last wave, the woman shook her head. "Crazy kid, better get some rest when he gets home."

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The clock had just struck 12:35 a.m. as Jean unlocked the front door and tossed his car keys into the shallow marbled glass dish sitting on the table near the front entrance. Peeling off his hoodie and toeing his black low-tops off before setting them on the shoe rack back the door, the blonde sighed heavily as he let go of the days woes. Rubbing both hands over his face then dragging his fingers through his hair, he couldn't feel more exhausted than he did in that moment.

Jean didn't know it at the time, but the patient he was assigned to right after he had come back from lunch was one that would test him both mentally and professionally. Rushed to the hospital via ambulance was a seventeen year old kid named Micah Standish whose angst and sour attitude already had the young doctor gritting his teeth. Admitted because the valve transplant he had received a year ago was failing, the boy was a timebomb on the verge of a total cardio collapse. His mother, who had accompanied him to the hospital didn't care what it took to save her son; she just wanted him to get better. However, the problem wasn't with the mother, it was with her son.

All afternoon and into the early evening, Micah had been combative to the point where Ymir told Jean to just let the kid cool off and come back in the morning to see if he had changed his mind. But it was plain to see that the brat wasn't going to change his mind. For some reason unbeknownst to him, Micah didn't want help. Hell, Jean would go as far as to say he didn't want to live from the comments he was making whenever he and his mother would go at it. 'Maybe he's afraid of surgery or something,' Jean thought to himself as he sunk into the hot bath he had drawn.

Dipping into the water further until everything below his nose was submerged, the intern racked his mind to think of what could be the root of the teens' aggression. He had seen people present their fear of surgery in many ways--some had even gone as far as to try and punch him as their being wheeled in on the stretcher. But this Micah kid didn't give off the same vibe. He was on edge and combative and he seemed scared, but not of the surgery. Maybe something other than the procedure was dogging him.

Blowing bubbles for a moment as he pondered the possibilities, Jean groaned and slipped beneath the water for a minute before popping up and slicking his hair back. His mind was at the end of its tether. It couldn't handle anymore that day. Between his patient refusing treatment and his mother and sister calling the house asking when he was coming to visit, Jean wanted nothing more than to disappear. The noise coming at him from all directions had been nonstop since he returned from his mini vacation with Marco. It was near insufferable but still, he endured because you couldn't opt out of reality nor could you stop being an adult.

With great reluctance, the young man dragged himself from the tub; pulling the stopper once he had a towel wrapped around him. It was still warm outside so Jean just slipped on a pair of boxers and his charcoal gray sleeping shirt before flopping onto his bed with the windows open. Since it was already quiet outside he could hear the waves crashing on the shore in the far distance and the crickets chirping in the garden outside. Taking a deep breath with both eyes closed, he exhaled and let the stress roll right off his shoulders. He could've slipped away right then if his cell hadn't started vibrating on the nightstand to his right.

Picking up the phone, a smile immediately blossomed across his face. "Hey baby, I thought you'd be asleep by now," Jean said sweetly as he relaxed into the pile of feathered pillows.

"Nah, I'm still up," Marco called back from the other end. "My watch just ended about six minutes ago."

"Long day, huh."

"Mhmm," he hummed with a nod though he knew Jean couldn't see it. Walking into the sleeping quarters of the station, Marco clicked on a lamp, opened the window to let the breeze in, then closed the door before collapsing onto the bed. "Hey, mind if I facetime you?"

"Sure."

"'Kay. See ya' in a sec." Hanging up, the brunette redialed his partners' number as he toed off his shoes and curled over onto his side; propping his head up on a pillow. Within the moment, the call was accepted and he was greeted by Jean's glittering smile. "There he is," Marco smiled back. "God, I miss that smile. You just get out of the shower? Your hair's wet."

Instinctively reaching up to comb his fingers through his damp hair, Jean chuckled. "Yeah, I took a bath. It was just one of those days you know."

"I'm sorry babe. Wish I was there to help."

"Well you're sorta here so it's alright."

"What happened?"

Breathing in then releasing it in a heavy exhale through pursed lips, the blonde sunk even deeper into the pillows and mattress; the blankets bunching up at his bent knees. "I have this new patient that's refusing treatment. Like, I'm talking he won't even allow me to run down his list of options and he fights with his mother whenever she tries talking sense into him."

"What's he in for?" Marco asked with furrowed brows as he got comfortable.

"Bad heart. The kid came in because his valve transplant from last summer is crapping out and he's on the donor list for a new heart but he's refusing any and all help. I have no idea why but I think he may be scared of something. Don't know what but it's my best guess."

Thinking for a long moment, the brunette reflected on his own experiences. "Maybe he's afraid of leaving someone behind or how his death may hurt his loved ones."

"What?"

"My grandpa Sergio used to do the same thing whenever he was taken to the hospital. He had high cholesterol and, after his second heart attack, had to have bypass surgery but he would fight with the doctors and my grandma all the time because he was afraid of what would happen to everyone else if he died during the procedure. I mean, I didn't agree with him but I could understand where he was coming from because he was the primary breadwinner in his household for so long that he wasn't sure what my grandma Frieda would do if he passed. Maybe the kid's thinking the same thing," Marco grunted as he shifted in bed and pressed his face further into the pillow while propping the phone against the side of the nightstand that kissed the edge of the bed. "Or maybe he isn't. Who knows with teenagers these days."

Chuckling, Jean curled up onto his side; mirroring his lovers' actions as he leaned the phone against the bedside table. "You sound like an old man when you talk like that. You know, you aren't that much older than him. Well, at least not enough to be saying 'teens these days.'"

"Sometimes I feel like an old man to be honest. I used to be the fastest guy on the team here until Mika came along and handed my ass to me. You know, no one told me growing up would be so crushing on the ego."

"Babe, you could wash clothes on your stomach and you can complete a ten mile hike on an incline in less than six hours. That's pretty fucking in shape if you ask me."

Smiling that smile that made Jean's heart melt and his bones go weak, Marco bit his lip with a little shake of the head. "You're exaggerating baby but thanks for the encouragement."

"I'm not exaggerating Marco."

"Maybe just a tad bit you are."

"Oh my God, fine. When you get back, I'm going to prove it and you won't be able to argue with me afterwards."

"What, you going to race me up a mountain or something?" the brunette teased; a playful spark burning in the depths of his swirling chocolate eyes.

"Maybe. Or I could lock us in your room for an afternoon to prove your stamina."

"That doesn't sound half bad to me."

"Same here," Jean winked back at his partner before they both broke into a small laugh. Settling down, the smile on the blondes face softened, taking on a more somber tone. "I miss you."

"I miss you too Jean."

"It's kinda ridiculous because you've only been gone for three days and it isn't as if you're out on a job right now. But still, I miss you like crazy; especially when I'm at home by myself."

"It's alright 'cause I miss you just as much," Marco confessed. Licking his lips, he hesitated before saying his next words. "I've dreamt about you every night. Every time it's the same. I wake up in the dream and I'm back home and you're lying next to me asleep with that little smile you always have when you're dreaming. It's so real sometimes that I can smell your shampoo and the clean cotton of your sleeping shirt. But when I reach out to touch your I wake up. Pretty cheesy huh."

Caught somewhere between flattered, embarrassed, and lovesick, Jean felt his throat tighten from the rush of combating emotions he was weathering. It was such an honest confession with no expectation of reciprocation. Marco just so easily bared his heart to him without restraint and never asked for anything in return; just his attention and acknowledgement that he was still there even though they could see each other. Wiping the stray tears that he didn't know he was crying, Jean sniffled back the others while gathering his thoughts.

"Sorry," Marco said with a soft airy laugh. "I didn't mean to make you cry."

"No, it's alright. I just wasn't expecting you to say something like that."

"Something like what?"

"Something that makes me wish you were here more than I already do," Jean answered honestly; his piercing gaze dialed in on his lovers' lovely face. "But now you've gone and done it so there's no helping it I guess."

"Hey Jean..."

"Yeah?"

Biting his lip, Marco smiled as his eyes began to get glassy. "I love you."

Laughing, Jean struggled to hold back the traitor droplets that ran across his cheeks. "Damn it, I love you too. Now stop making me cry."

"This is going to make me sound like a dick but you're really cute when you cry."

"Shut up Marco."

"And here I thought you liked my voice."

"I love your voice but it doesn't help when you're being an ass."

Snorting a laugh, the brunette remained silent until his shy partner finished wiping his face dry. "Better?"

"Yeah," the intern smirked with a sniffle. "For now at least."

"Well I won't be gone for too long; hopefully, at least. You just got to hang in for another seven days then I'll be home."

"Mhmm," Jean nodded as he rubbed his eyes again. "God, could you imagine what this would be like if one of us was in the military or something?"

"It'd be pretty rough since those guys are usually out on deployment for years at a time."

"Fuck, I'd probably lose my mind."

"Probably," Marco quipped with a smug grin. "I'd probably be just as bad though. Guess it's better that I'm with the fire service than the armed forces."

"Definitely better though I still miss you," Jean yawned while he stretched his arms and legs.

Watching his tired partner on the other end, the brunette dropped his teasing. "You look tired love. Do you work tomorrow?"

"Hmm?" the blonde hummed as he struggled to keep his eyes open. "Yeah, I have pre-rounds at six-thirty."

"You should probably turn in then and get some sleep. It's already a quarter past one."

"But I'd rather talk to you."

Smiling at how sweet Jean got when he was tired, Marco stifled a laugh. "I know baby but you need to sleep. You've got patients that need you and you can't help them if you're running on empty."

"Fine," Jean pouted as he tugged that blanket up past his waist and curled in even more. "Can you stay on the line until I fall asleep?"

"Anything you want Jean."

Smiling, the blonde got comfortable; nuzzling into the pillow while cracking an eye open to see if his partner was still there. "I love you Marco," Jean mumbled then kissed his fingers and touched them to the screen.

Kissing his fingers and touching his phone screen where Jeans' were, Marco gazed back at him with a gentleness in his expression. "I love you too Jean. I'll be home soon."

"You better be because it's hard sleeping without you."

"Well I'm right here for you so try to get some rest."

"'Kay. Night Marco."

Watching Jean's jeweled amber eyes close and that soft smile slowly appear on his face, Marco pressed another kiss to the screen with his fingers. "Night baby. I love you," he said as a little snore escaped past Jean's lips. "More than you'll ever know. Sleep tight and I'll be home to you soon."

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It was the first night out Eren and Levi had spent together in weeks. With the summer season came more accidents which meant more surgeries and time spent away from one another. And while the endless dance between the operating room and the arrivals ward was what the two men had willingly signed up for when they enrolled in med school, it did not eclipse their desire to spend at least one evening relaxing and enjoying each others company. It didn't matter that Ymir and Hanji would be joining them that night at the Hollywood Bowl--especially because they had bought tickets for the metal show before Eren was even aware of it. What did matter was that he'd finally have the surgeon all to himself without having to worry about a pager going off because one of their patients was coding.

Since both Hanji and Ymir lived within walking distance of each other, they had drove to the Bowl together; chatting excitedly about Ymir's upcoming bachelorette party in New York. In between jokes and quick affirmations of "fuck, this is going to be awesome," Hanji would answer texts from Moblit who had been left at home with their six year old twins, Artemis and Percy. Apparently the devious children took after their mother and were trying to dissect their teddy bears with the butter knives in the bathroom but had only succeeded in removing the creatures heads when their father found them.

HANJI: Did you want me to come home? I'm only a 20 min drive away. Maybe 30 or so with traffic. They didn't hurt themselves right?

MOBLIT: No, it's fine. Percy nicked his thumb on the edge of the butter knife but it's not too bad. He's just been crying because I grounded them for a week with no TV. Enjoy your night out Hanny. You haven't been out in months.

HANJI: You sure? Did you disinfect the cut? They aren't freaking out over the blood are they? I haven't explained to them yet what happens when you cut yourself.

MOBLIT: Honey, it's a single night. I think I can handle our children just fine even if they take after you more than they take after me. Relax, enjoy the concert, and come back hammered and happy. I'll hold down the fort so just have fun tonight. I love you and say hi to Ymir and Levi for me.

Smiling sweetly, Hanji replied with the silliest look on her face. The woman was a master of many guises but the moment she clocked off, she was a scientist, mother, and loving yet slightly neurotic wife. How she wound up with a man as steadfast and straightforward as Moblit was anyone's guess but her friends were thankful for it. The man had the patience of a saint, the integrity of one too, and took all of her antics in stride. Levi and Ymir often wondered how he put up with it all the time but, then again, there was nothing the sugary sweet glaze of adoration couldn't wash over.

"You good?" Ymir asked with a solitary arched brow. When Hanji nodded and deposited her phone into her canvas crossbody stamped with the medic symbol, the freckled brunette smiled and cranked the music back up. "Are you ready for some moshing 'cause I sure as fuck am!"

Throwing her arms up in the air, Hanji cheered. "Hell yeah! Time to rock the fuck on!"

By the time the dynamic duo had arrived at the massive center, parked, and had gathered their cushions and cooler full of snacks and beer, the sun was already starting its early evening climb through the sky. It was still bright enough outside that they needed their sunglasses and hot enough that part of them had wished they'd bought tickets for the orchestra seating. After all, with the jobs they had, they could easily afford the $400 tickets; especially if it meant they didn't have to haul that massive cooler up and down a fucking hill with a crowd of fifteen thousand people. 

However, they and Levi knew how the three of them got when they mixed metal, liquor, and good company so they played it safe and bought five seats in the very back of R2--the fifth seat being extra space to put their food and drinks so they didn't knock anything over.

With their tickets in hand and sunglasses down, the two women took the escalators all the way up to the nosebleed section to avoid carrying their precious cargo up the wide clunky cement steps leading up to their seats. Walking the short distance from the auditorium entrance to R2, Hanji was first to spot their row. It didn't take much since all she had to do was look for Levi who was already there relaxing in their seats with Eren.

Since this concert was basically a flashback to their high school days, the three friends had a similar idea of how they should dress for the occasion. And like Ymir and Hanji, Levi had nearly reverted back to his delinquent persona; a side of his personality that his partner found more than just a little alluring. Dressed down in slim black wash jeans, a basic fitted white scoop neck t-shirt with a flannel tied around his hips, and a pair of roughed up black hightops, it was like the surgeon was seventeen again and running from the police after he and Hanji had been caught tagging the side of the local liquor store. 

But now--unlike then--he had a few additions to his look including a five inch paint splatter poppy in black ink with red shading on the inside of his upper right forearm in honor of his mother, M. C. Escher's "Impossible Cube" inked on his left hipbone, and the verse "Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance for what we do not see" from the book of Hebrews running down his spine--it being the biblical verse that his parents had chosen for him at his dedication when he was a baby. To top it off was the silver barbell tongue ring he only sported on special occasions.

"Levi Fucking Ackerman!" Hanji shouted as she pounced him from behind. Catching the man off-guard, she grinned wickedly while holding him in a headlock. "Looks like my favorite little punk rocker decided to make an appearance."

"Fuck off Hanji," Levi growled as she bore down on him with even more weight. Pinching her nose hard between two knuckles, he smirked when she began to cough; effectively releasing him from her vice grip. "See, that's what you get when you act like an ass-wipe and jump someone."

"Ah, feels like senior year all over again," Ymir sighed with mock blissfulness as she sat the cooler down in the extra seat then hopped over the wooden back of the long bench and sat down. "Sup Lee?"

"Nothing really. I was just enjoying the peace and quiet with Eren until you two showed up and caused a ruckus."

"Come on Lee," Hanji whined as she flopped down next to Eren, leaning over the young man just enough to catch Levi eyeing her past the lowered edge of his mirrored aviators. "I was just playing. Lighten up will you? We're not even on the clock right now. You don't got to be so bratty, ya' know."

"I'm not being bratty," he spat indignantly though there was little venom in it. "I'm just tired from a long week and don't need anything else sneaking up on me."

"Well sorry," the oddball woman dragged out the last word as she raised both hands up defensively then smirked when a smile broke past Levi's defenses. "So how long have you two been here?" Hanji asked as she maneuvered around the two men and sat down next to Ymir so that she could fish a bottle of beer out of the cooler. "You seem pretty settled in."

Looking to the young brunette at his side, Levi tilted his head back while biting the bottom corner of his lip. "Probably a half hour; maybe a little bit more. Traffic was a bitch so we had to leave the apartment early."

"Figures, especially since you two are coming from Brentwood," Ymir chuckled with a hint of biting humor to her tone.

"Oh yes, how could we forget that Levi dearest lives in hoity toity Brentwood now," Hanji snorted as she attempted to do her best impersonation of a snobbish aristocrat.

Rolling his eyes, Levi reclined back into his seat with his head resting on Eren's shoulder who was laughing along with his friends antics. He had known the two since high school; back when he really was a wayward punk without any direction but a brilliant mind. It was actually thanks to them that he had decided to pursue surgery--both women once pointing out that his OCD tendencies were ideal for the field. Yet despite being a year older and lifetimes wiser than them, they still treated him like a younger brother and took great joy in teasing him. By now, the surgeon had learned how to tune them out while still being aware of his surroundings; well, the parts that mattered at least.

After another half hour of small talk between the four over a couple bottles of Pacifico and Guinness, the lights of the massive open-air stadium dimmed as the national anthem came on first as it did with every concert. Directly after it, the stage went black for a minute and remained that way as the opening cords for "Our Truth" by Lacuna Coil played. The cheering, clapping, and chanting rose even higher when the booming vocals of Cristina Scabbia filled the air and the stage was flooded with alternating beams of red and white light.

It had been years since Levi had been to a metal concert--the last one being the Rob Zombie show at the Ford Theater he and the two women had attended before Hanji found out she was pregnant with the twins. Little did he know that when he started dating Eren that he had found someone who not only shared his taste in movies, food, and TV shows, but also in music as well. And while his ear for the different types wasn't as finely tuned as Levi's, Eren still knew what was good and what was garbage.

When the first act closed and the second took the stage, that was when the three friends rose to their feet and cheered. Eren wasn't really a fan of A Perfect Circle--namely because some of their music was just too dark for his taste--but he couldn't help but smile when his partner shot up with all the vim and vigor of a caffeinated teenager and bellowed a "Fuck yeah!" while pumping a fist into the air. Like the band before them, the second group took their shot at the current political state of the country by syncing up a gritty video of wartime violence and pictures of the impoverished alongside campaign footage with their song "Counting Bodies Like Sheep To The Rhythm Of The War Drum." It was the one track Eren hated the most because it had the most disturbing lyrics by far but, when paired with the video, it was inspiring; thought provoking and edgy to be totally honest.

The next song however, was one both Eren and Levi loved equally--Levi because it was one of the most rhythmically adventurous ballads the band had put out and Eren because the songs lyrics were meaningful yet absurd all at once. Singing along to "Weak and Powerless" as he stood next to his partner, the brunette smiled when he felt the other mans arm slip around his waist; the pad of his thumb rubbing tentative circles into his hipbone. Listening to Levi's voice as it sang the words " desperate and ravenous, I'm so weak and powerless over you" as he then took a sidelong glance at the intern, Eren found himself going weak in the knees. The man was always a tease but right now, cut loose and in his element, he was downright devastating in his allure. It wasn't fair how handsome he was so the brunette decided to do something about it.

Just like the lyrics suggested, he too had no control over himself as his arms wrapped around Levi's waist--one hand snaking up to cradle the back of his head--and he pulled the man into a deep urgent kiss that dripped with want and need. Heart racing when the older man parted his lips and allowed Eren to take control, his pulse skipped again when he felt Levi's tongue ring dance along the edge of his teeth and tease his tongue. It was intoxicating and mind-numbing the way he could so easily take command of a kiss without actually being in control. Moaning softly against those perfect, soft, petal pink lips that Eren wanted to devour, he frowned when Levi broke the embrace.

Swiping his thumb over the brunette's bottom lip, the surgeon kissed his young and insatiable partners nose, cheek, then ear before whispering, "You can wait until after the concert for more babe."

Groaning as he bit down on the corner of his mouth, Eren eyed his man up and down. "I don't know. I might just lose it standing next to you while you sing like that."

"Then I'll stop."

"No!" Eren protested immediately much to Levi's amusement. "I like the sound of your voice."

"Good," Levi hummed happily; his eyes deepening with a familiar gleam that got the young mans heart pounding. "You know I like the way sound when you sing too."

"Well when Deftones comes on, you can listen all you want."

"Intermission couldn't come soon enough."

Winking back at Levi, Eren kept his word and refrained from getting too grabby although he maintained some form of physical contact whether it be their hands knitted together, an arm around the waist, or a brush of their arms against one another. Anything was welcomed because it could only add to the sweetness of that evening. It had been so long since they had actually "gone out" that the feeling could be equated to what teenagers felt on the last day of senior year.

When intermission finally did come around, Hanji ran off to get to the bathroom before a line formed while Ymir went to the smoking section to have two cigarettes; it being her nightly routine to have exactly two and no more. Leaning happily against each other while staring up at the night sky, Levi and Eren let the world around them fade away with only their shared body heat and the touch of the palms against one another tethering them to reality. Head gently bobbing up then down with every breath the older man took, the brunette felt so warm, so at ease with life that he couldn't help the small sigh that escaped from his lips. Despite only being together for ten months, Eren felt as though they had been a couple for years.

The atmosphere that surrounded Levi was so calming, so serene, that it had a natural mellowing effect on Eren's abundance of raw energy. They balanced each other perfectly--like mirror opposites looking each other in the eyes for the first time and immediately falling in love. Eren was everything Levi wasn't and Levi had what Eren lacked. Together they were completed; better and improved as a couple.

"Eren," Levi spoke softly; his eyes still aimed up at the sky and his expression thoughtful and dreamy. "I've been wondering something for a while but I didn't want to ask until I thought you were ready."

"Yeah?"

Nodding his head slowly, Levi rolled it to the side and closed his eyes as he kissed the smooth skin of Eren's bronze neck. "Move in with me."

Heart slamming in his chest, the brunette didn't know if he wanted to cry or smile so he did both. "Really?" When Levi nodded again, the young man sniffled with a small laugh. "You won't take it back once I move in and make a mess or something?"

"We practically live together right now babe so I doubt it'll be that much different. But I want to wake up next to you every morning and come home to you after a long day at work."

"Well, that is if I get off before you," Eren joked.

"True. But you get my point. I want you there. I want to live with you because I want us to start building our lives together."

"You know it's kinda unfair how cool you are while saying all of this."

"Eren, I'm being serious." There was a change in Levi's voice as he shifted in seat so that he could hide his face completely in the warm comforting crook of Eren's neck and shoulder. Weaving their hands together more tightly, he pulled it to rest on his thigh; thumb massaging circles into the back of the brunettes hand. "Please, move in with me?"

Pivoting his head to the side just enough, Eren kissed the top of Levi's head. "Okay, but let me talk to Jean first. Both our names are on that lease and I don't want to leave him out to dry like that."

"That's understandable. Just let me know when you get the 'okay' and I'll talk to my realtor."

"Wait, aren't we going to stay at your place."

Smirking, Levi looked up and kissed Eren's chin. "Not a chance. Moving in together means picking a place that fits both of our needs."

"I believe that's referred to as domestication," the young man teased lowly under his breath as he kissed Levi's nose.

"Yeah, and? I don't see it as a bad thing; at least with you it isn't. I want to do this with you and I hope you do too."

"Oh I do; trust me. I just need to clear things up with Jean first."

Smiling slyly, Levi went back to nuzzling against his partners neck. "Something tells me that won't take too long. At least not when Marco comes back from his extended shift."

"Babe, what aren't you telling me?"

Breathing out a short laugh, Levi pecked the side of Eren's throat. "That's for me to know and for you to find out another day."

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jean stood in the doorway of Micah's room watching in silence as the boy passively listened to the head rabbi from his temple ramble on about why it'd be foolish not to have the surgery. They had found a donor valve two days ago and it was now in transit. The surgical suite was prepped and ready for the procedure but there was one hang up. 

As of 3:35 that morning, Micah had turned eighteen which meant he was a legal adult and they could no longer use his mother's word to proceed with the surgery. They instead had to find a way to get the reluctant teenager to agree to the transplant in less than thirty minutes or they'd risk the valve spoiling or going to another patient in need of the organ.

Gail, the boys mother, had tried for days but had gotten nowhere so she enlisted the help of the family's rabbi, some of her friends that had known Micah since birth, and his on-off girlfriend. Yet it was all in vain. He was determined to stick to his guns and hold out. For what, Jean didn't know but he wasn't about to let an otherwise perfectly healthy kid die on his watch. So, going against Ymir's orders, he decided to say something; going off of Marco's hunch and his own gut feeling that the kid was experiencing what he had felt when his own father died.

Watching as Rabbi Mashall removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, the intern knew that the man had exhausted himself arguing with the teen. Sighing heavily, the man rose to his feet, said "I pray you come to your senses" in Hebrew and left the room; his shoulder knocking gently against Jean's as he left. Now, it was just them--the young doctor and his patient who sat in his bed glaring at his fists clenching the sheets in his lap.

"What are you afraid of?" Jean spoke suddenly, his voice cutting through the long static silence.

It wasn't an accusatory statement; held no malice or mockery in it. Staring at the teen with honest eyes, he knew that look. It was the same one he had when he had almost died months after his father's funeral when he had fallen while rock climbing outdoors. The hold had crumbled beneath his hand and his foot lost grip and he plummeted to the ground faster than Eren or Mikasa could react. He remembered wearing that same look when Lillian chastised him for being so reckless, almost growling when she snapped saying "are you trying to get yourself killed?! You're just like your father sometimes." However, his mother couldn't have been farther from the truth.

Shoving away from the doorway, Jean approached the edge of the bed while simultaneously pushing his hands into his lab coat pockets. "You aren't afraid of dying, I can see that much so what is it?"

"Like you fucking care," Micah spat with a sneer at the end. In his eyes, Jean was one of them; an enemy that didn't want to listen, just wanted to get his way.

"You're an honor student, co-captain of the soccer team at your school, and the glue that holds your friend group together," the intern stated matter-of-factly, smirking when the kid's head jerked up in surprise. "I was the same way except I ran track instead of doing soccer. Your life couldn't be more perfect and then your old man dies and everything changes. Suddenly you're the man of the house and you have to listen to your mother crying quietly in her room at night. You don't go to her though because you know she's doing it in private so that she doesn't worry you but it hurts even more because you feel so useless."

"How the fuck do you know--"

"I lost my father when I was sixteen. He was a wildlands firefighter; you know, the guys that take on the really massive fires. One year, there was a blaze out in Yosemite and his team was called in for help. But instead of coming home like he did every other time, he died saving three men; burned to death without any way out." Noticing Micah's eyes widen and his jaw drop open, Jean could tell his point was starting to sink in. Now all that was needed was the final push. "A couple months after his funeral, I went out climbing with some friends over by Point Dume. I was near the top of the bluffs when I lost my grip and fell nearly seven stories. Both my arms were broken, I had cracked my skull, ribs, and busted my ankle. I shouldn't have survived but I was happy I had because I didn't want to cause my family anymore pain. We had just buried my old man and I could only imagine how devastated my mother would have been if I had died. So I pulled through, for her and my sisters sake."

Tears streaking his face, Micah was silent for a long moment; lips trembling and his eyes downcast. "What if I don't wake up?" he whispered. "The last surgery didn't work so why would this one? If I stay at the hospital hooked up to these machines then I'll stay alive for sure and my mom won't have to go through it again, you know. Dad died of a heart attack last year and she had to wake up next to him like that. I don't want my mom to wake up and find me dead in my bed because the transplant didn't work."

"You're right, you could stay plugged into these machines for the rest of your life but do you really think that's what she'd want? To watch her only son waste away in a hospital because he's afraid of what would happen to her if he died? I know that you're doing this because you love her. I'd feel the same way if I were in your shoes but you have to look at the bigger picture Micah. You already know that you have a high chance of making a full recovery and the valve that's on it's way is in perfect condition unlike the one they put in you when you had your procedure at Saint Bellamy's. I'm not going to force you to do anything, that's not my job. But what I will say is to take your mother into consideration here and would she be happier having you healthy or sitting next to you in a hospital every morning, noon, and night for the rest of her life? She loves you enough that she would do that; throw everything away just to be at your side because she cares. Ask yourself that and then get back to me."

Just as Jean turned to leave Micah answered. "Okay."

"Okay what?" the intern pivoted just enough so he could see him.

"I'll have the procedure. Just make sure that you get it right or I'll come back and haunt your fucking ass."

Snorting a laugh, Jean nodded. "I wouldn't blame you if you did."

Yet, as sweet and relieving as the moment was, it came to a grinding halt when there was an abnormal spike in the heart monitor feed. Glancing up to the screen briefly, Jean's eyes returned to Micah to see him choking on his breath. Heaving for air, he doubled over and his neck corded with the strain of trying to force his body to work properly. Jumping into action a split second later, Jean slapped the blue button next to the bed to sound the code alarm. Turning the kid onto his back right as the crash team arrived, the intern kept looking between his vitals on the screen and the teen's agonized face as he spiraled into cardiac arrest. The valve was giving out and his heart was seizing. 

With Micah's pulse pitching between rapid and too fast to count, Jean had no choice but to wait for him to flatline before he could deliver a powerful jolt to his system with the defibrillator. Holding the boy's hand as he talked him through what was about to happen, the intern held Micah's gaze that was brimming with fear and helplessness. Gasping for air, his grip tightened as his heart gave a final heave before stopping. Wheezing and trembling, Micah felt the air leave his lungs as his eyes fluttered close. When they did, Jean quickly slipped his hand out of the teen's, took the wired paddles of the defibrillator from the nurse next to him, and rubbed them together.

Right as he placed them on Micah's chest, Jean said a silent prayer then shouted, "Clear!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have decided that instead of doing full playlists whenever there is a "medical" chapter--i.e. one that focuses primarily on the surgical aspect of the story--I am going to post the lyrics to one of the inspirational songs used while creating the chapter. This may change; it may not. Who knows. But here, from me to you, is the primary song I listened to while writing this installment. Enjoy!
> 
> **INTO THE FIRE**  
> By: Thirteen Sense's
> 
> Come on, come on  
> Put your hands into the fire  
> Explain, explain  
> As I turn, I meet the power
> 
> This time, this time  
> Turning white and senses dying  
> Pull up, pull up  
> From one extreme to another
> 
> From the summer to the spring  
> From the mountain to the air  
> From Samaritan to sin  
> And it's waiting on the air
> 
> Come on, come on  
> Put your hands into the fire  
> Explain, explain  
> As I turn, I meet the power
> 
> This time, this time  
> Turning white and senses dying  
> Pull up, pull up  
> From one extreme to another
> 
> From the summer to the spring  
> From the mountain to the air  
> From Samaritan to sin  
> And it's waiting on the air
> 
> Now I'm low, I'm looking out, I'm looking in  
> Way down, the lights are dimmer  
> Now I'm low, I'm looking out, I'm looking in  
> Way down, the lights are dimmer
> 
> Come on, come on  
> Put your hands into the fire  
> Come on, come on


	11. Burn With Me (REVISED)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean performs emergency surgery and he and Marco come to an understanding as the firestorm of the century breaks out....
> 
>  
> 
>    
> ATTENTION READERS!!!!!: Salut mes amis! I hope you're all well and dandy. I just wanted to first, thank you all for your continued support and readership. Secondly, I wanted to give you guys the heads up that this chapter is being re-released because I had to revise it to match the story. The hurricane bit from the original just wasn't working and, rather than forcing myself to write something that wasn't clicking with everything else, I reworked the story and changed it to fit what I wanted for the upcoming chapters. I hope ya'll understand and enjoy the new twist.
> 
> A tout a l'heure mes amis!
> 
> -Mars <3

Eyes fixed on the floor with nothing buzzing through his head, Jean breathed in heavily then exhaled; repeating the meditative pattern several times before his heart calmed down. Quietly he sat in the doctors locker room in his dirty scrubs with a light splattering of blood across the chest. It was the first time he had relaxed in the last ten hours. But even after sitting in silence for a half hour he still felt a nauseating rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins; the aftermath from performing emergency surgery and having to fly solo on a valve transplant.

Staring at his shaking hands, the intern replayed the events from earlier in his mind. He could still hear the sound of the monitor flat-lining as Micah went into arrest. Reacting almost immediately, he had lowered the bed and started chest compressions while he waited for the code blue team to arrive with a crash cart. It took three shocks from the defibrillator and a dose of epinephrine to revive the teenager though he remained unstable the entire journey to the operation suite where the new heart valve was waiting for them.

Expecting to see Ymir or Hitch, who was on loan to Cedars-Sinai for the next six months, Jean felt his stomach knot when he was told he would be performing the procedure. He had been trained to do cardio transplants and had shadowed Ymir several times during both harvest and donor surgeries. But he had never done one himself. It was surreal standing in the operating room after sterilizing his hands--watching the scrub nurses pull a clean pair of surgical gloves over his hands and up to the elbows after fixing the headlight on his forehead so that he could see things more clearly.

Raking his hands through his hair as the memory came back, he let out a long stress-laden sigh. He could still recall the smell of iodine as the surgical team sterilized Micah's chest. He remembered the sound of the electric surgical saw as it turned on--its immaculate silver blade spinning in dizzying circles before cutting into the bone of Micah's exposed chest cavity.

The faulty valve was easy to pinpoint because it had been leaking for the past thirty minutes causing the heart to go into failure. Evacuating the wasted blood from his chest first, Jean then proceeded to remove the two massive clots that had formed around the heart; one being the size of his palm. Snarling "fucking damn it!" through gritted teeth as he uncovered a minor tear in the teens' right atrium, he had to wait for Rosa, his senior scrub nurse, to run to the supplies closet down the hall to retrieve a mesh graph and a five pack purple thread suture pack. Cauterizing the tear so that it wouldn't leak anymore, he then patched the torn flesh together with the bio mesh and absorbable sutures before moving on to the transplant.

Mimicking Ymir's actions from the numerous valve transplant surgeries he had watched her and other doctors perform over the years, Jean forced his anxiety onto the backburners. Thinking about nothing but the task at hand, the only words uttered were commands to the surgical team for various tools and less or more suction from the filtration unit. Hooking Micah up to the bypass machine, Jean closed his eyes and slowly counted to five as he waited for contraption to start circulating the teen's blood for him. When he opened his eyes, the team was waiting for his orders with the new valve in the iced silver dish on the sterile tray to his left.

Everything had moved so quickly, it were as if he had dreamt it all. Positioning the valve, sewing it into place, massaging the heart back into a steady pace once they took Micah off of bypass--had any of it actually happened or was it just a figment of his imagination? The round of applause from the team as the teenager's heart started beating on its own without error or leak was enough to tell him it was real.

He remembered feeling nauseous; sick from the adrenaline and anxiety swelling from inside him like a ruptured spring bubbling up under his skin. Apparently Ymir had been called in at some point because he booked it straight past her--still wearing the clothes she had worn to the concert--as he made a beeline to the employee parking lot. Grabbing hold of the nearest trashcan, Jean threw up his lunch from earlier in the day and the water that the nurses had given him during the long surgery to stay hydrated. His body shook and his legs buckled sending him to his knees.

The surgery had been a success but he was reacting as if it had been a failure; probably because he half expected it to be. He wasn't supposed to be flying solo in surgery yet. He should have had Ymir or Hitch there to lead the procedure but even the chief of surgery confirmed that he was handling this case alone. When Jean asked why, Burke simply folded his arms across his chest and said "because you're ready." He was an intern barely out of his first year. How could he be ready for such a crucial surgery that could go sideways for so many different reasons?

Yet, in the silence of the locker room where he was alone with his thoughts, Jean found himself a bit more confident in himself. He didn't think he should have been thrown into the situation the way he had been but he understood their reasoning. The intern was always cautious; sometimes too cautious and needed to be broken of his habits. He clearly had a way with his patients and in the past couple of months, many had gone as far as to request that he be in the operating room when they go under. It was why he was able to replicate so many different kinds of surgeries whenever he accompanied a resident or an attending. He had committed the procedures to memory and practiced them in his head a million times while including possible complications just to make sure he was trained for the worst. Jean may not have thought he was ready but his superiors did and it was very obvious that they were right.

Exhaling again, Jean reached up and combed both his unsteady hands through his hair. as the clock struck closer to 11:30 p.m. he contemplated heading home and turning in for the night. He had certainly earned it after the panic of nearly losing his patient then the nerve wracking high that came from performing his first solo surgery. It didn't help that he had been on his feet running around for the last thirty-eight hours; the last ten of which were spent resuscitating his patient then standing in an operating suite stitching a new valve into the kids chest. But more than he wanted sleep, he wanted to talk to someone about what had just happened. He needed to vent and get all of the left over energy out of his system. But who could he talk to? Eren was with Levi for the week so he wouldn't be at home; and chances were that they were having a grand old time back at the surgeons place. Sasha was out with Lenore and Armin after all three of them had clocked off that afternoon and Mikasa was at the station for her on-call shift just like Marco.

"Hey," spoke a familiar voice from the doorway on the other side of the locker room. Standing there in the threshold in her jeans and graphic-tee was Ymir. "How're you feeling? You looked like your were about to throw up the last time I saw you."

"I did throw up," Jean admitted as he sighed; letting his head hang low.

Shoving away from the doorpost, she sat down next to him with an 'oomph' before getting comfortable. "You know, for an intern that just singlehandedly saved a kids life, you don't look too happy. What's got your goat Kirstein?"

Hesitating for only a moment, the blonde spoke. "Why didn't you tell me that I'd be performing the surgery alone?"

"You already know the answer to that one," she smirked softly. Going quiet, she sat there gnawing on her bottom lip for a second before continuing. "The first person I ever performed a solo surgery on died an hour into the procedure. It was supposed to be a quick laparoscopic procedure; in and out with small stitch work on the interior atrium. But we uncovered a lateral tear--barely the width of a thread but when I went to inspect it with my scalpel the thing tore even more and the patient began to bleed out. Naturally I panicked. Nothing had prepared me for that and all my training just flew right out of my head leaving me standing there wide-eyed as I watched this middle-aged mother of three bleed out in front of me. I was too confident in myself but not when I needed to be. But you," she smiled sweetly as she turned to him then rubbed his back in a sisterly sort of manner. "You aren't anywhere near confident enough. I knew you'd be able to pull that transplant off without a hitch because you aren't like me. You're all intuition and gut reactions which, for anyone else, wouldn't work. But it's your best asset Jean. Yeah, you're smart but your instinct is smarter and that's something not a lot of us have."

Jean was shocked beyond words that he'd hear Ymir--the leading cardiologist on the west coast and most revered and feared resident at Cedars-Sinai--say that he was, in a way, on par in his talents with her. There was no way that was true. It couldn't be. She was the envy of all the doctors in her field and an idol of sorts though he'd never admit it out loud. Jean had never seen Ymir make a mistake or a wrong call when it came to a diagnosis and patients treatment. But there she was, telling him that this superhero facade she wore with such ease was nothing more than an illusion. That she was just as human as him and had her fair share of screw-up's and moments of defeat. In a way it was reassuring since it meant that maybe he wasn't so foolish to dream of one day becoming just as talented as her.

"Thanks," Jean muttered doing his best to keep his voice even and tremble-free.

"No problem. Once in a while, you guys deserve a bone thrown to you. Just don't tell anyone I said any of this. They'll start thinking I'm picking favorites and then all hell would break loose."

Chuckling, the intern nodded. "Right."

Staring at him for a moment, Ymir smirked, rolled her eyes, then sighed while craning her head up to look at the ceiling. "You know, tonight I was supposed to go visit Marco at the station; even called in advance to get the green light from Marlo and shit. But between the concert and rushing back here to make sure you didn't throw yourself off a cliff from anxiety I'm actually rather tired."

"Huh?"

Rising to her feet with a grunt, she shoved both hands into the pockets of her hoodie then gave Jean that signature Bott grin before continuing. "I'm gonna head home. Got a long day ahead of me tomorrow so I have to hit the sheets. But you, I believe, have the day off. Might be a good opportunity to catch up with your loved ones, you know."

Finally understanding what she was getting to, Jean could only smile with grateful eyes. "Thanks Ymir. I think I'll take your advice on that one."

"Smart man. Now get out of here. You look like shit and I've had my fill of being a genuine person for the day."

"Right. Well, I guess I'll see you on Saturday."

Nodding, she gave him a brief smile; this time a tired one. "Night Kirstein."

"Night Ymir."

\------------------------------------------------------------------------

Watching from the bed as Eren entered the cozy room--fresh out of the shower with just a towel over his shoulders and a pair of sweats slung around his hips--Levi smiled appreciatively at his man. Bearing the marks of the brunettes intense love over the expanse of his alabaster skin, the surgeon made no attempt to hide them; not there in the privacy of his own home he didn't. As the young man flopped back onto the mattress, Levi collected him into his arms. He loved the smell of his warm skin and wild dark hair after a good soak in the shower. His natural scent was always stronger then, especially right around the nape of his neck and the hollow of his throat.

Leaning in to brush the soft smooth skin below the brunette's ear with his nose, Levi placed a series of light butterfly kiss down to his shoulder where he rested his cheek. As he did, Eren brought his partners arms in tighter so that he was trapped in his embrace. Despite being sore in his shoulders from where Levi had clawed into him earlier the young man felt content and at peace in the small world that consisted of only them. He loved the feeling of his partners heartbeat--still able to feel it through the fabric of the mans old Standford sweater that wrapped around his flawless skin like a blanket. He loved the sound of his steady breathing, the feeling of his body heat, and the fresh scent that clung to him like a veil. Eren loved everything about Levi and thanked every star in the heavens that he had been gifted with this man.

"What time do you have to punch in tomorrow?" Levi asked; yawning from the exhaustion of both the concert and the multiple bouts of wild sex with Eren. It was always draining when the brunette topped but he loved every moment of it and regretted nothing.

Slumping back into the welcoming warmth of his lovers' chest, Eren got comfy. "My shift starts at four-thirty and goes twenty-four hours."

"You aren't doing a forty tomorrow?"

Shaking his head, the young man grunted a little as he shifted in the embrace so that he was lying on his side; ear over Levi's heart with a hand placed gently against his chest. "No. Sasha's doing the forty tomorrow which is why I worked a forty-eight yesterday through today."

"Guess you'll be spending the majority of your shift in surgery with me then."

"Most likely. I'm a little worried about the tumor though. The fibers are pretty deep and have started wrapping around the cerebral cortex. Are you sure you can get it all without nicking something?"

"Yeah, I can get it all. Back when I was in school the guy that pioneered the method we'll be using did a lecture at my college and I was lucky enough to see him perform the operation. It's going to be tricky but it can be done. Are you sure you can handle yourself in there with me though? There won't be any room for error on this one."

Nodding, Eren smirked. "I'll be fine. I've been watching video's of the procedure and I've got a pretty good handle on it."

"Good." Combing a hand through the kids' thick deep cinnamon brown hair, Levi reached for the remote with the other and turned the evening news on.

Usually the broadcasts were all the same whether it was a story about politics, local crime, or feel-good pieces to lighten the mood. However, that evening, all the channels were going live with a different story.

Earlier in the morning around 2:00 a.m., three fires had sprouted up across California--one near Reno, another in the farthest reaches of the Los Padres National Forest, and the third in Yosemite. They were so small at first that they should have been easy to contain. However with the drought and the high winds ripping across the state, they had exploded exponentially within the last twenty hours. Now, the Reno Fire had eaten up six thousand acres with three teams working to put it out and the Broom Ridge Fire in Los Padres had consumed fourteen thousand acres with five teams and a pelican dropper from the Canadian fire service working on it. However, the worst was the beast in Yosemite with eight separate teams working to put it out.

A monster of a blaze, the Ghost Canyon Fire had devoured sixty-five thousand acres, jumped across the canyon into the national forest, and had already killed two campers that had been caught up in the burn near the ignition site. It was like the maws of hell had opened up to unleash its fury on Earth. Towering trees that had withstood the ravages of time came crashing down with a thundering boom as the fire consumed them. Shots of firefighters struggling to keep the water pressure up were edited together with views from the opposing ridge that had been evacuated by the national park service. For miles past the viewable horizon, all that could be seen was the thick clouds of dark smoke, ash raining down, and air drops unloading thousands of pounds of water on the blaze. 

Sitting up next to Levi, both men watched in shock as reports flooded in from the front lines delivered by field reporters in protective gear with glassy eyes from all the smoke and wind. It was unbelievable because no one had seen it coming. The year had already been one of the worst so far for wildfires. But this monster, this was something else. This wasn't just any old burn. This was mother nature taking her anger out on the world and demolishing everything in her path as if she sought to erase humans from the face of the planet.

"Holy crap," Levi murmured, almost as a whisper. Leaning forward with horror in his eyes, he wove his fingers together with Eren's without even thinking about it. "This is going to be bad."

Watching the newscast for a moment longer, a light clicked in Eren's head. Lungs tightening and body going stiff, he shook his head. "No," he said slowly with mounting fear and alarm clear in his emerald eyes. "No, this can't be happening. Not again; Jesus fucking Christ."

"What is it?"

"Ghost Canyon," he choked out as he struggled to find the words. "That's where Jean's dad Gabe died back in 2007. Four other firefighters died during the Storm Ridge Fire but Gabe could have gotten out. He could have but he evacuated three other guys and got caught in the blaze."

Eyes blown wide, Levi turned back to the screen, remaining silent. "Shit."

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

It was a quiet night at the station. An eerie silence found only in the most haunting of times. After receiving the news that half the team would be heading to Los Padres while the others would be assisting the fight up in Yosemite, nobody on the team felt like playing cards or watching the game in the den. Instead, the members of the 82nd wildlands crew stuck with killing time in their own way. Mikasa went around to the back to have a cup of tea and watch the stars. Connie soon joined her when he couldn't take the tension inside the station. Marlo went into his office and called Hitch to let her know that he'd be gone for the next two weeks; maybe longer depending on how bad things got.

Hanging out in the garage with the trucks and the main engine, Kat and Marco sat in silence watching the clouds streak across the night sky. Both had been called in by their team with the San Gabriel smokejumpers to work the Yosemite burn. Neither of them had been on an assignment this big before; had never fought a fire that was bigger than forty thousand acres. However, if the videos on the news were anything to go by, it was going to be worse than anything they had ever encountered. Compounded with the dread was the sickening unease when they learned exactly where it was located; igniting in the same area where Gabe Kirstein had famously taken his last stand after saving the lives of three teammates. It was fucked up in more ways than one but they couldn't go against orders. Not if they wanted to keep their jobs since each of them was a career firefighter and not a volunteer member.

Sniffling quietly, Kat wiped a few stray tears from her alabaster cheeks as she saw a shooting star flicker across the sky. If only her wish to not go to Yosemite could be granted. If only another team had been asked to go. If only she was a volunteer that could opt out of going. What was it about their station that seemed to attract these kind of troubles? No matter what, the worst scenarios always seemed to call for them to come running. A fire she could handle and earthquakes weren't much of a bother either. Landslides and flash floods were nothing. But a raging behemoth of a wildfire that had already killed two people with no end in sight? That was tempting fate.

"You know Josie asked me to move in with her," Kat murmured with her gaze fixed on the sky overhead. Smirking to herself, she sighed. "Looks like I won't be able to give her an answer in person."

Frowning at how messed up their situation had become, Marco breathed out as he rested his head on her shoulder. "Sorry Kat."

"It's fine. It ain't your fault that Mother Nature decided to be a bitch this year."

"Still, it sucks."

"Yeah but what can you do?" Returning to the comfort of silence for a long moment, Kat licked her lip nervously before asking her next question. "Does Jean know? He's probably goin' to be a wreck when you tell 'im where we're going."

"No, I haven't called him yet. His schedule was already going to be hell today so I didn't want to pile another thing on top of it. I'll just call him tomorrow since it's his day off." Looking down when the phone in his back pocket went off, the brunette removed the device from his slacks then cursed under his breath when he saw the number.

"Let me guess..." Kat trailed off with a smile that was both sympathetic and disbelieving. "The guy has impeccable timing."

Excusing himself, Marco walked out of the garage to the main driveway as he accepted the call.

"Hey babe," the brunette said, forcing a smile to his tone. "What're you doing up this late?"

"I was calling to see if I could swing by for a visit. Ymir told me she had put in for it with Marlo but decided to let me go instead."

Biting his lip, Marco pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yeah, sure come on by."

"Is everything alright? You don't sound right baby."

"I'm fine."

"Marco," Jean said sternly. There was no way to fool him. They knew each other too well for that anymore. "What happened?"

"I'll tell you when you get here. How close are you to the station?"

"Ten minutes. Maybe a little less."

"Well then I'll see you in ten. Drive safely 'kay babe."

"I will. See you in a few."

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

Jean knew something was terribly wrong when he pulled up to the station and saw Marco standing in the main driveway the engines used with one hand shoved into a pocket while the other rubbed the back of his neck; a nervous habit that always gave him away. Parking in the guest spot, the intern turned of the car and exited the cabin as quickly as he could manage. Without saying a word, he closed the distance between them and brought Marco in for a firm loving hug.

It was everything both of them needed without even knowing it. Holding onto each other tight, Marco buried his face in the soft heat of Jean's neck with his eyes closed as a trembling sigh racked through him. The blonde had already looped his arms around his partners' neck--his fingers tangling up in those dark chocolate brown waves as his lungs brought in a deep breath that was filled with Marco's natural smoky scent. Parting just enough to kiss his cheek, Jean held him even closer; entirely convinced that he'd vanish in that moment if he didn't.

"I'm sorry Jean," Marco choked as his emotions got the best of him. "I'm so sorry."

"What's happening baby? I can't understand why you're like this if you don't tell me."

"My team was called in."

"Okay, so you're going to fight a fire. I don't--"

"No, it's different this time. Kat and I were called in with the San Gabriel smokejumpers." Fighting for words and courage, he buried his face in Jean's neck as the tears started. "I'm so sorry Jean. I love you so much and I'm so sorry."

"Marco, please, you have to tell me what's going on."

Trembling in his partners arms, Marco couldn't bring himself to say the words yet. Couldn't tell Jean that he was heading to the same ridge where his father had died ten years ago. Couldn't bring himself to look into those pleading amber eyes he adored and break the mans heart. Why was fate so fucked up? Was it not enough that Marco was in the same line of work as his lover's deceased father? Was it not enough that Jean had already lost his parent? It were as if they weren't allowed to have the simple happiness of growing old together. It were as if the stars had accidentally crossed the night they met and this was karma's way of getting back at them.

Holding the brunette's face in his hands, Jean could feel his stomach churn when he saw how pained his man was. "Please?" he pleaded in a soft tone, coaxing partner into talking. "I promise I won't freak out."

Opening his eyes--now filled with tears--Marco kissed Jean as if it were the last one they'd ever share; heavy with anguish and longing. "I'm being sent to fight the Yosemite fire." Pulling back so that he could see Jean's face, his heart ached at the horror in those stricken amber eyes. "Kat and I have been assigned to the Ghost Canyon Fire. We leave tomorrow afternoon."

No further explanation was needed because Jean knew that area well. He knew exactly where it was and that it had been renamed in honor of his father and the other four fallen firefighters. Chest tightening and tears breaking past his defenses without so much as a warning, he could feel himself on the verge of a mental breakdown. He had already been robbed of his father--one of the most important people in his life--and now fate wanted to steal the love of his life; the very man he had hoped to grow old with someday.

Jean's hands trembled uncontrollably and his heart raced as the air struggled to drag itself into his aching lungs. Marco was going to Ghost Canyon. He was leaving and there was no guarantee he'd return. The fire had already jumped to sixty-five thousand acres and wasn't even five percent contained. He wanted to scream; to fall to his knees, pull out his hair, and dissolve into a mess because the man he loved more than life itself was being asked to offer up his own. He wanted to punch the fire chief in the face for giving the orders and hide them away. They couldn't do this. He wouldn't let them... But what choice did he have?

This was Marco's job; it was his passion and career. It was something he had chosen for himself despite his family's insistence that he pursue art. Marco was a firefighter and a damn good one which was why they needed him. It was part of why Jean loved him so much. Pressing their foreheads together, the intern took a deep breath as he collected himself. This wasn't the end of them. He wouldn't let fate steal this man away or snuff out the light in his eyes. Jean would batter down the gates of heaven to bring him back because he wasn't anywhere near done loving Marco. 

"You'll come back to me," Jean rasped; his voice rough from the strain of breathing. "I know you will."

"Jean, I--"

"No," he said firmly as they looked into each others eyes. "You WILL come back."

Understanding that this was no longer up for debate, Marco laughed lightly despite his sadness. "I'll come home to you Jean." Kissing him tenderly, he brushed their noses together; savoring the contact of the blonde's skin against his. "I promise, I'll come home. We've got so much left to do, there's no way I'd leave you now."

Sniffling at his promise, Jean wrapped his arms around his man; closing the distance between them with a warm embrace. "Good," he said against the fragrant skin of Marco's neck. "I'll be here waiting for you."

Smiling weakly, Marco held him as closely as he could--wondering who was more in pieces, him or Jean. "Come on, lets get you inside. You staying the night since Ymir already got the green light?"

"Do you think Marlo would be okay with it?"

"I don't see why not. We aren't on-call anymore since we have our assignment and have been taken off of the available response listing." Lifting the back of Jean's hand to his lips as they parted, Marco then gave him a sweet peck on the forehead. "Come on, you can tell me all about your day over some dinner."

\-------------------------------------------------------------

Nestled in Marco's arms, Jean traced circles into the fabric of the mans shirt while waiting to fall back asleep. He had been jolted awake a half hour ago when his dream took a turn for the worse. But it was one he had gotten used to over the past couple of weeks so it was nothing new to him; took less and less time calming his breathing with each nightmare. Shifting in Marco's embrace, he gazed up at the brunette, finding comfort in his peaceful expression and childlike innocence as he slept. This was what he lived for now.

His life was no longer his own. Bound to Marco by his heartstrings, Jean could feel their worlds merging. With anyone else, this kind of revelation would have been enough to scare him off and break the relationship. But he was in too deep now. He could have broken things off with Marco when he found out that he was a wildlands firefighter. He could have backed out of the kiss they shared at the bar; the one that drove the first nail into this shared coffin. But he couldn't stop. Couldn't deny the gravity pulling him so strongly in Marco's direction. Jean couldn't ignore the way his heart broke and rebuilt itself each and every time he saw that smile or the fluttering in his stomach when the brunette's fingers brushed over his cheek.

It was a cruel joke the universe was playing on him--making the person he was born to love a firefighter; the same kind as his father with the same altruistic heart. It was ten different kinds of fucked up but Jean couldn't stop himself from wanting Marco; couldn't stop loving him, adoring him, and thinking of him or that smile. Instead, he let himself burn in this overwhelming rush of emotion.

Reaching up, he lightly trailed his fingertips over the smooth skin of Marco's cheeks; dancing along his jaw and up to his lips. As the brunette fussed in his sleep, the intern pushed up until their lips met; his damp and salty from the tears he had begun to shed while his partners were warm and soft with a slight dusting of peppermint from his chapstick. Waking as Jean pulled away, Marco blinked back the haze from his dream. Stretching his legs--which only tangled them more closely with Jean's--he released a tired groan while his eyes slowly focused on his partners face. The full moon's pale silver light was pouring into the quiet space; highlighting everything it touched.

Bathed in the moon's cool gleam, Jean was like an angel knocked from its perch and banished to live amongst humans. He was breathtaking; beautiful beyond words even as his finely featured face twisted with sorrow. They didn't need words. Not when everything they were thinking was so clear in their eyes. The two men were like books cracked open at the spine with the pages flipping wildly from one side to the next. Their fears, their hopes...the words that went unspoken between them. All of it was out in the open for the other to see. Nothing could be hidden between them anymore; not now that they were so deeply immersed in one another.

"Hey," Marco rasped with a soft loving smile.

Feeling Marco's heart beating steadily beneath his palm, Jean smiled back. "Hey."

Thumbing away a rogue tear from his lovers' cheek, Marco closed the space and claimed Jeans lips with a covetous kiss. No words were spoken as the blonde entangled his fingers in those silken waves of dark brown or as the brunette trailed down his partners neck; leaving an assortment of bites and petal pink marks in his wake. They knew that what they were doing was risky; that they could be caught in that moment which would result in a write up for Marco and Jean being barred from visiting. But neither of them cared. They needed each other. They needed to feel the life flowing between them set their souls on fire.

Grateful in that moment that Marlo had his own room and that his three other teammates that were on duty that night were busy with packing their gear or were on watch, Marco rolled them over so that he had Jean pinned beneath him. Shivering when their hardening lengths rubbed against one another, the brunette broke the embrace for a long second to take in the sight. Letting his eyes wander up from Jean's partially exposed toned stomach to the fair column of his throat which bore the marks of their passion then up to the mans' pleading amber eyes, Marco felt his heart clench and his throat tighten. He wanted the blonde more than ever. Wanted to hold him and keep him for eternity. He felt greed consume him as he thought about what he'd do if he was ever forced to let go of this bewitching man.

Kissing Jean with untamed desire, Marco was barely able to restrain the growl roiling from the pit of his stomach. "You're mine Jean," he murmured as he bit the skin just below his lovers ear.

Fighting the pitiful moans working their way to his lips, Jean trembled at the statement. "Always." Placing a hand on either side of his lovers' face, the blonde swallowed hard when he saw the desperation and possessiveness swirling in the depths of those dark moody eyes. "I'm yours Marco."

"You'll wait for me to get home?" the brunette asked as he nuzzled the soft palm on his right cheek.

"I'd wait until the end of the world for you babe."

"Hopefully I won't take that long." Moving back in to claim those lips he had been watching, Marco slid a hand up Jeans shirt; his need to monopolize every inch of the young man flaring again as he watched him writhe beneath him. "I want you so bad right now. Please Jean, let me have you."

Pressing his lips into a tight line, Jean's entire body shook as a moan ripped through him when Marco ground their hips together. "Yes, oh fuck," he rasped as his voice pitched. "Marco, I want you so bad. I need you right now."

"You'll have to keep your voice down. You know what'll happen if we get caught."

"You too. You'll also have to work quickly in case someone comes."

"I know," Marco said, his voice husky, dripping with ardor.

Making a path from Jeans lips to his throat, the hollow of his neck, and down his chest, the brunette got to work unraveling his already wound up lover. He hated that they couldn't take their time and truly enjoy one another. He especially hated that Jean wouldn't be able to be as loud as he usually was. Marco loved the mans voice; got high off the sound of him screaming his name as he fell into total ecstasy. But he was happy enough to be able to hold and touch him and hear the muffled moans that were smothered by the blondes pillow.

Back arching and eyes widening when Marco pulled his sweats off and took his length with one bob of his head, Jean bit down hard on his lip to stop the cry from giving them away. Struggling to keep quiet, he wove the fingers of one hand into the sham of his pillow while the other tangled itself in his mans hair. Breaths coming in stunted pants as Marco worked him into a mess, the intern had to remember how to breathe. His entire body was alight with the overwhelming pleasure his lover administered to him with every lick up his length and gentle caress to his trembling thighs.

Replacing his mouth with his hand, Marco coated his fingers in the pre-cum as he kissed up from Jeans hips up to his chest where his heart was hammering against his ribs. Twisting his wrist just a bit, the brunette stopped the scream from escaping his lovers' lips by capturing them with his own. Absorbing the intensity of his moan, Marco couldn't restrain the growl that sounded from within him. He was so drunk on the feeling of Jeans hot damp skin clinging to his, the intensity of his love-stained eyes, and the beating of his heart.

"M-Marco..." Jean stammered quietly then bit down hard on his lip as the first digit entered him. Exhaling hard through his nose then nearly choking on a cry as the second one pushed inside after a few experimental thrusts, the blonde wrapped his arms around Marco's shoulders; his nails clawing into the fabric of the mans shirt. "I l-love you. Fuck, Marcooo."

Kissing his partner with everything he had, Marco nuzzled the space just below his chin as he placed an adorning kiss to his throat. "I love you too. I love you so much Jean; more than anything in the world. I want you all to myself; to keep you with me always."

Tears breaking past his defenses as he heard Marco's voice crack and tremble, Jean pulled him flush against his body right as the third finger pressed inside him. Rolling his hips in time with the thrusts, he drowned in the pleasure and felt himself breaking from the intensity of his partners love. Hitching one leg around Marco's hip as the feeling in the pit of his stomach deepened, the intern kissed him back with ardor while combing both hands through that beautiful mane of luscious brown hair.

"It's okay baby," Jean stated quietly; his eyes briefly flickering down to catch sight of Marco's straining erection that was still confined by his sweat pants. Kissing the brunette's ear, he then whispered, "I want you now. It's alright, you won't hurt me."

Eyes meeting followed by their mouths, the embrace soothed the furious beating of their hearts while Jean slipped his hands down to rest at the line of Marco's pants. Then, with one fluid motion, he slid them down past the swell of the brunette's toned ass. Sighing from the relief, Marco's head fell to rest on Jeans shoulder as the young man stroked his length in long firm pumps. Breathing harder, he nuzzled sweetly into the blondes neck like a child seeking shelter from the dark. Shuddering when Jeans other hand slid under his shirt to rest between his shoulders, he couldn't have felt more loved than he did in that moment. Part of him wanted so badly to pull away and sheath himself inside of Jean because he he wanted to be that much closer to him. But the other half of him wanted to stay hidden in his arms as the blonde left kisses to his ear, jaw, and cheek. It was so warm and safe there. But they needed each other; they wanted each other.

Simultaneously taking Jeans' hands in his and pinning them on either side of the blondes head as he lined up at the mans entrance, Marco gazed into those spell-binding pools of liquid amber. "I love you Jean."

Smiling back with his face flushed and sweaty hair swept from the dewy skin on his forehead, Jean kissed him. "I love you too Marco."

Right as the words were spoken, he felt Marco push into him; the powerful heat spreading through his hips making his thighs shake and his head fall back onto the pillow. Taking deep breaths in between hard swallows, Jean let himself adjust to Marco's stiff erection that was now completely buried within him. Chuckling quietly when he felt the familiar tap of the mans tip nudging in his pelvis, he wrapped his other leg around his lovers' waist; biting back a groan as the penetration deepened.

Once Jean had relaxed around him, Marco began a slow and steady pace. Rolling his hips as the blondes' came up to meet his, they were working up a sweat in no time. Moving one hand to hold Jeans' thigh firmly against his hip, the brunette tightened his grip on his partners hand with the other. Kissing one another like they were half-starved, their tongues fought for dominance while all thought of the outside world fell away. All that existed was this perfect moment. Nothing could come between them here. Nothing could rob Marco of his perfect lover and nothing could could break Jean's heart. They were safe tangled up in the power and desperation of their embrace.

Thrusting harder and deeper into Jean as he felt the young mans muscles clench around him, Marco was seeing spots. The tight heat surrounding him was like heaven and the soft gentle voice calling to him sent him soaring into space. He never wanted to let go of this; never wanted to know of a life without Jean or his love. Devouring the cry of pleasure escaping his partners lips while muffling one of his own, he could feel them climbing higher toward their climax. Marco didn't want it to end; didn't want to let this feeling die just yet. But they were so wound up from everything that had happened that night and needed this relief.

"Marco," Jean whispered against his ear; his arms clinging desperately around the brunettes freckled neck with fingers woven into his hair. "It's too much Marco. I...I'm gonna cum."

"Me too," Marco groaned lowly as he thrusted harder against the interns prostate which had the man clawing viciously into his shoulders. "Fuck! Cum with me Jean. Cum...with...!"

Before he could finish his sentence, he soared into orgasm; pushing himself through it until Jean followed. Unable to scream out in release like he usually did, Jean--without thinking--bit down on Marco's shoulders as his hips shook with the spreading wildfire that was running rampant across his nerves. Riding out his climax with Marco carrying him through it despite the exhaustion from his own, the rhythm eventually slowed and Jean released his vice grip on the brunette. Barely conscious at that point, he cracked his eyes open and stared at the spot he had bitten down on. No skin had been broken but the force was enough that it had already started to discolor the tender flesh.

Craning his head up, Jean kissed the sensitive spot then tilted at an angle to steal a kiss from Marco. Sighing as the man pulled out of him while also wrapping his arms around his slim waist, the intern revelled in that moment. It was sickeningly sweet; coated in the afterglow of their lovemaking and the growing intensity of their adoration for one another.

Parting just enough to smooth the hair back from Marco's face, Jean smiled. "You'll come home to me," he said confidently. "I know you will."

Breathless and in awe, Marco kissed him softly on the lips before resting his head on Jeans chest; right above his heart. "I will. I promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah, in these last two chapters it was revealed that Hanji, Ymir, and Levi were little punk metalheads in high school and frequented many venues to see their favorite groups. Why you ask? Because they're badass mother fuckers; 'nough said. So here, from me to you, is the Metal Mouth List. Note that it includes hard rock, metal, heavy metal, and goth rock. Enjoy.
> 
>  
> 
> **METAL MOUTH**
> 
> -"Tempest" by Deftones  
> -"Phantom Bride" by Deftones  
> -"Hearts/Wires" by Deftones  
> -"Rosemary" by Deftones  
> -"Change (In The House Of Flies) by Deftones  
> -"Xerces" by Deftones  
> -"Fiction" by Avenged Sevenfold  
> -"The Beast And The Harlot" by Avenged Sevenfold  
> -"The Words 'Best Friends' Become Redefined" by Chiodos  
> -"Welcome Home" by Coheed and Cambria  
> -"The Death & Resurrection Show" by Killing Joke  
> -"Nothing Else Matters" by Metallica  
> -"Master Of Puppets" by Metallica  
> -"The Unforgiven" by Metallica  
> -"One" by Metallica  
> -"Enter The Sandman" by Metallica  
> -"For Whom The Bells Tolls" by Metallica  
> -"Down With The Sickness" by Disturbed  
> -"Beautiful People" by Marilyn Manson  
> -"Sweet Dreams" by Marilyn Manson  
> -"Cupid Carries A Gun" by Marilyn Manson  
> -"Living Dead Girl" by Rob Zombie  
> -"Werewolf Women Of The SS" by Rob Zombie  
> -"House Of A Thousand Corpses" by Rob Zombie  
> -"Pussy Liquor" by Rob Zombie  
> -"I'm So Sick" by Flyleaf  
> -"Freak On A Leash (Mash UP Edit)" Korn ft. Amy Lee  
> -"Our Truth" by Lacuna Coil  
> -"Awakening" by The Damning Well  
> -"Worms Of The Earth" by Finch  
> -"Weak And Powerless (Tilling My Own Grave Mix)" by A Perfect Circle  
> -"Counting Bodies Like Sheep To the Rhythm Of the War Drum" By A Perfect Circle  
> -"Judith (Renholder Mix)" by A Perfect Circle  
> -"Weak And Powerless" by A Perfect Circle  
> -"The Noose" by A Perfect Circle


	12. Islands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean and Marco make an agreement and Kat, Bertholt, and Marco meet up with the smokejump team...
> 
>  
> 
> SHOUTOUT!: I'd like to dedicate this chapter to all my readers in California that were in any way effected by the rash of wildfires that were eating up the state and are now being pummeled by raging landslides. My thoughts and prayers are with you and just know that this isn't a forever thing. There will be a light at the end of this dark tunnel.
> 
> L'amour toujours et de rester en securite,  
> (Love always and stay safe)
> 
> -Mars <3

It was more quiet than usual that morning when Jean woke. Looking up at the clock hanging on the wall as he blinked back sleep, he was surprised that it was still so early; it reading 6:00 a.m. even though the sun had yet to break over the horizon. Eyes drifting down to Marco who was still asleep, he took his time memorizing every detail; adoring every freckle, curve of his lips, slope of his adorable nose, and the way his eyes pinched as he reacted to some unseen character in his sleep. 'My sweet Marco,' he thought silently as his fingers traced the line of his jaw down to the smooth skin of his neck and over his broad chest and shoulders.

He wanted to remember everything; to absorb it all because Jean knew he'd be gone for at least two weeks, probably longer. Needed to commit the smell of his sweet honeyed skin to memory and the way his lashes moved as he slept. Needed to remember every point on his lovely face so that he could recreate it on his pillow late at night when he was lonely and missing Marco. Jean needed to burn every second they spent together into his memory so that the days apart would be less painful. Even right now, laying side by side with their legs and arms tangle together, he missed him. Could feel them drifting out of reach of one another as the sun finally started painting the morning sky pastel orange, pink, and blue.

"You should be asleep," Marco grumbled as Jean gently stroked his jaw with the pad of his thumb. Opening his deep dreamy brown eyes, the man smiled lazily. "What are you doing up this early?"

"I'm a creature of habit," he said almost as a whisper so that they didn't wake Connie and Tye who were sleeping in beds across the room. "That and I missed you."

"I'm right here Jean."

"But you weren't in my dreams."

Sighing, he pulled Jean closer until the intern was warmly tucked under his chin with his ear pressed lightly against his chest; no doubt listening to Marco's heartbeat. He didn't know what else there was to be done; what else he could say. Marco had to leave and he knew it was going to tear Jean up. It was already killing him and he hadn't even put on his turnout gear; hell, he hadn't even left bed yet. But just the prospect of leaving Jean behind hurt more than he could say. But, as an idea occurred to him, maybe there was something that could be done.

"Josie asked Kat to move in with her yesterday," Marco said abruptly; their hands weaving together in the little space there was between their chests. When Jean moved and tilted his head up, the brunette continued. "She accepted so I'm pretty sure I'll have to start looking for a new place."

"Why? You love that house. It's perfect for you."

"But it's too much for one person. I was thinking of finding a place closer to yours so it wouldn't take me an eternity to get to your house."

Biting his lip, Jean wasn't sure if the conversation was meant to encourage what he was about to ask--maybe he was just reading too far into it--but he took a deep breath and asked anyways. It wasn't like he'd get a chance anytime soon. And Marco had said it months ago when they first started dating, every relationship had its own pace. Maybe....maybe this was their pace. Maybe this was where they'd stop being individual entities and their worlds would finally merge into one.

"Or we could just move in together." It was quiet but loud enough that just Marco could hear. "You know, instead of sorta moving in together... If you want."

Eyes lighting up as a smile worked its way across his face, Marco bit the corner of his bottom lip. "You'd do that?"

The blonde nodded. "I'd live in a cardboard box on the street with you Marco."

"Well luckily we don't have to worry about that. I guess the question is, yours or mine?"

"Yours. I already spend more time there now than my own place. And it's closer to both of our jobs."

Smiling wider with a single tear breaking past his defenses, Marco held Jean closer. Burying his face in the beautiful mess of flaxen hair, he couldn't stop his heart from running a mile a minute nor could he stop the weightless feeling from bubbling within him. He may be leaving for one of the hardest jobs he'll ever handle in his life and it may push him to his limits. But now Marco had something to look forward to when he got home. He'd have someone there waiting to welcome him back, someone to kiss the cuts on his skin made by broken branches, and soothe his aching muscles that'd still be tense from the firefight. He'd have someone to fall asleep next to, wake up next to, and sit beside with their hands woven together as they ate breakfast in the morning. He'd have a proper home, something only Jean was capable of giving him because he was the only one the brunette would want to build one with.

"I'll be at home waiting for you so please," Jean said as he struggled to keep his voice level. "Please come home."

"I will Jean. I'll come home to you."

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

Eren had never been so anxious before. Nauseous, jittery, and bouncing on the edge of his seat on the couch, it was any wonder how he didn't spiral out into oblivion. He had planned on talking to Jean about moving in with Levi. However, with everything happening in Yosemite, he changed the topic of the conversation he was looking to have with the guy.

He could still remember the day Lillian got the call from the Dot who had been the fire chief at the time. They had just gotten back from school and were dicking around playing video games instead of studying for finals. It was a normal day just like any other; nothing out of the ordinary, totally nondescript. They hadn't even thought to watch the news because Gabe was such a badass in their eyes that nothing could bring him down. He always came home no matter what; he'd never even been seriously injured on a job either so they didn't think anything of it.

They didn't think it was possible until a bone-chilling scream erupted from the kitchen downstairs. Wondering what had happened, they ran to check on his mother in case she had hurt herself. When they arrived in the kitchen, she was sobbing uncontrollably--curled up against the cabinet beneath the sink with the phone clutched tightly against her chest. She couldn't speak, couldn't breathe. Just wept for a solid hour leaving Jean to wonder what had happened to her. Quietly, he sat there holding his mother in his arms while Eren tried to get a hold of Stella to see if she had any clue what was going on. It was when they dialed Jean's sister for the second time after it had gone to voicemail that Lillian spoke.

Jean did his best to keep himself from falling apart. Even when they went to the morgue to claim Gabe's remains, he didn't cry; didn't allow himself that luxury because his mother needed him more than ever. So while Lillian and Stella openly wept for months and years after, the young man had internalized his pain, bottled it up, and put on a fake smile. He didn't want anyone to worry. Didn't want to cause any trouble even though he often would sneak away to the bathroom when a panic attack overcame him. Sometimes in the mornings, Eren would meet Jean on the corner by his house and notice that his eyes were bloodshot as they walked to school. He could say that he was okay but the brunette knew better than to believe that bold-faced lie. It was why he was on even higher alert when Jean came in through the front door looking like he'd had the life drained from him.

Watching the blonde as he sat his messenger bag down next to the entryway table and hung his car keys on the hook by the front door, Eren could feel his nerves catch fire. He must have known about the fires to be looking that sullen. But there was something heavier weighing down on him. 'Oh God, please no,' Eren thought to himself. With a deep sigh, Jean flopped onto the couch next to his friend. Resting his head on the brunettes shoulder, he sniffled before wiping away a stray tear with the sleeve of his hoodie.

"Marco got called in with the smokejumpers to work the Yosemite fire," Jean croaked, his voice rough from the crying he must have done on the drive home. "He just left a half hour ago."

Wrapping an arm around his shoulders, Eren rested his cheek on Jeans head. "I'm sorry Jean. This is all kinds of fucked up."

"Yeah," he nodded slowly. "Yeah it is. But he'll come home." It wasn't even a question. Something about the way Jean had said it made Eren believe it was true. "I know he will. Marco will come home."

"Well he better or I'll kick his ass back into the world of the living."

Laughing, Jean closed his eyes as he licked his lips briefly. Sinking into Eren's warm chest, he felt like he was back to being the whiny brat that cried when the fourth graders picked on him for "looking like a horse." Whenever shit hit the fan or life got a little too real, he could always fall back on Eren. Even when they were in their angsty years during junior high and fought constantly, they could rely on one another when it came to the heavier moments. Smiling, Jean tried to remember a time when they weren't attached at the hip to each other. Funnily enough, nothing came to mind because Eren was already there waiting for him when Jean had been born. Every moment, every triumph, joy, downfall, and heartbreak they had experienced together. This time wouldn't be any different.

"We're moving in together," Jean murmured, the statement coming out as almost a whisper. Shifting as Eren turned his head, the blonde clarified. "Apparently Kat's girlfriend asked her to move in and she said yes. Marco said he'd sell his place and move somewhere closer since the mortgage is too high on his place for one person. But he loves that place and so do I so we decided to move in together."

Weighing his words carefully, Eren hesitated to say what he was thinking. "Are you sure that's a good enough reason to move in with someone? I'm not telling you what to do so if you want to then go for it. But I don't want your reason to be purely driven by finances."

"It isn't. That's actually the last thing that made me decide to move in. I know we still have a year left on this place but I just really love him and I want to wake up next to him every day for the rest of my embarrassing life. So yeah, I'm sorry I'm being an asshole and bailing on you."

Chuckling when Jean turned his blushing tear-stained face into the sleeve of his henley, Eren lifted his hand and flicked the shell of his friends' ear. "You aren't being an asshole. Actually, I was going to tell you that Levi asked me to move in with him yesterday too."

"Really?"

Eren nodded. "Yeah. He wants to find a place both of us like and move in together."

"Whoa."

"I know right. A year ago I would have laughed if someone had told me I'd be moving in with someone like this."

"I guess this means you guys are getting pretty serious."

Biting his bottom lip, Eren smiled. "Yeah, we most certainly are." Staring ahead, the words he spoke next came without hesitation. "He's the one Jean. I just know he is. He's my one."

Smiling with a gentle roll of the eyes, Jean snorted a laugh. "I knew he was your one since the fourth month marker. He's the only person alive that does a better job of handling you than me."

"Asshole."

"Whatever. You know I'm right."

"Yeah, I guess." Going quiet again, they listened to the birds outside and the cars passing by. "Do you think Marco's your one?"

Jean nodded. "I do."

"Well then you guys got my blessing. It's going to suck not seeing you as often though."

"Yeah, but we'll still see each other around. It's not like we'll never hangout again."

"Yeah." Eren exhaled quietly, his eyes still staring out the window. "God, this is going to be weird."

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rolling up the gravel path flanked on the right by open grasslands and dense forest on the left, Kat, Marco, and Bertholt arrived at base for the Region 5 smokejumper crew. Slipping on his aviators, the brunette gnawed on the toothpick perched between his lips while unbuckling his seatbelt. It had been a long ride up to the team headquarters so, once he was out of the wildlands relief truck that had brought them there, Marco's first move was to stretch his cramped legs and arms before cracking his back to straighten out the tense knots that had formed.

Grabbing his station 82 duffel packed with his personal effects and all the gear he'd need for the job, he led the unit of three as they headed over to the woodsided double story lodge that housed the R5 smokejumpers. As they got closer, the raspy vocals of Creedence Clearwater Revival's John Fogerty singing the lyrics to "Run Through The Jungle" could be heard emanating from the vehicle hanger speakers that had been left rolled open. Slinging his duffel over his shoulder with a cheeky lopsided grin, Marco was first to make it to the garage where the trucks, engines, and jump gear was stored. Inside were ten of the fifteen other members of the "mountain proud and fightin' strong" Region 5 crew.

Mending tears in his jumping gear was Indiana Walker, one of two squad captains and second in command of the entire outfit. Fondly known to everyone as "Indie," he was the comedic relief and resident hippie that kept his golden hair long with a braid or two woven into the tresses. Tall like Bert but less ripped, he didn't look like he'd be part of a smokejumper crew. His appearance fell more in line with someone in attendance at UC Berkeley circa 1969 playing hacky sack in between classes. Across from him checking the parachutes was Mina Cho, the team medic and one of the toughest women Marco had ever met. Mother of three--two of which were twin boys--she was not one to be meddled with when it came to safety and personal care. Years ago when Marco was the greenhorn on the team, she had nearly decked him for lying about injuring his ankle while out on a job with his wildlands crew and not receiving proper care. Moreover, she had the mental grip of a Navy SEAL and the clarity to administer first aid with a raging fire licking at her heels.

Clapping hands with Indie as he walked by with a chin jerk to Mina, Marco barely ducked in time to dodge the repelling harness and ropes that had been chucked over the edge of the engine to his right. Shouting an apology with a feline smirk Sydney Harper, the equipment specialist with a hankering for practical jokes. With the appearance of a pixie but all the menacing playfulness of a gremlin, the redhead was right up there with Kat when it came to who could get the best of Marco by scaring the shit out of him. Pushing her glasses up her small button nose, Syd waggled her brows as she welcomed her three teammates back to base.

"Damn Syd, Marco ain't on base longer than five minutes an' you're already breakin' his balls?" called Ali from the other end of the rig where he was counting the number of prime condition emergency chutes before they were packed into their casings. Chuckling off to his right was Brooklyn, the primary drop pilot and communications expert. "Come on an' leave 'im alone."

Chuckling as Syd rolled her eyes and got back to her checklist with Atticus Kent--the vehicle technician and secondary drop pilot--asking why she was always taking jabs at Bott, Marco gave Ali a firm pat on the shoulder as he passed by. Known to everyone else as Tex, Ali Keshishian was the mellow cowboy and second equipment specialist of the R5 team. He was also one of the few people the brunette knew to fall asleep with his eyes open; a habit he had formed during his youth in Iran before his family immigrated to Texas when he was ten. Sitting on a bench pushed up against the right wall of the hanger behind Ali reading over the review for the mission was Robin "Robi" Wilkes--the demolitions expert. Formerly with the air force, she was a perfect fit for the smokejumpers. And despite being five years older than Marco, she could still whoop his ass into next Tuesday if she wanted. Waving a hello without even looking up, the pixie cut blonde kept on reading as he passed on by.

Over near the back of the hanger hanging out with swamper and faller Ellis King was Michael Mouradian, the cutter and mechanic expert and a ringer for Maverick from Top Gun. The kid was the newest member of the team having just served his third year with the R5's as well as the youngest, joining when he was only twenty-two. Not only was the kid quirky with an affinity for all things spacey, but he could have been a stand-in for Tom Cruise in Top Gun. Between his hair--which Marco was almost certain had its own gravitational orbit and a grapefruit would orbit it if he threw one at the kid--and the way he acted, Michael was stuck somewhere between That 70's Show and Highway to the Danger Zone.

Looking up right as Marco was within shouting distance, Michael smiled that broad pearly white smile of his and sprang up from where he was quietly sitting and reading over the items checklist for their equipment crates. Hugging him firmly, the young man pushed his aviators up into the thick coif of shiny black hair that crowned his head. His cheeks dimpled when his large brown doe eyes combed over his three teammates that had been gone for the better half of the year and saw that not much had changed.

"Man, it feels like it's been ages," Michael said with a chipperness in his voice as he hugged Kat and Bert; only he and Marco could get away with hugging the socially awkward woman who'd rather embrace a cactus than let another human touch her. "Was the drive up alright?" he asked, placing both hands on his hips; fingers dusting over the edge of his grey jumpsuit that had been tied around his lean waist.

"It was relaxing enough considering there's a massive fire we're about to jump on," Bert joked.

"Yeah well what can ya' do? Anyway, I'll let you three settle in before dinner. Tex is cooking tonight so it'll be great."

"Fucking yes," Kat groaned as her head craned back. "I've had a strong lustin' for good barbecue for God knows how long and nothing in LA is cuttin' it."

Laughing, the young man gave her a pat on the arm. "Well this should fix that for you."

"Epic. Now I'm really fucking excited."

"Food always motivates you Kat," Marco commented with his brow arched. "Hey Mike, any idea where Kenny's lurking?"

"He's inside going over the operation specs. He told me to send you his way when you got in."

"Any idea why?"

Shrugging with his lips pursed, Michael shook his head. "Nope. He didn't say."

"Right well I'll swing by his office then after setting down my stuff."

"'Kay. See you in a bit man."

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As was tradition, the night before heading out for a job at the R5 headquarters was filled with laughter and smiles all around. It'd be the last time for the next two to three weeks that they'd have the chance to cut loose and relax since the moment their feet hit the ground in Yosemite, it'd be go, go, go. After chowing down on a barbecue fest fit for a king made up of pulled pork sandwiches, mouthwatering brisket, marinated steaks with mashed potatoes, coleslaw, sauteed green beans, and battered catfish with Cajun seasoned fries, the team of eighteen took it easy. Some watched Guardian's of the Galaxy Vol.2 over in the "living room" on the first floor while others battled each other Guitar Hero style in the game room on the other side of the hallway, opposite of the main gathering space.

While Kat battled Ellis to keep her crown for cleanest play of "The Devil Went Down To Georgia" by The Charlie Daniels Band, Sorsha and Joey--the team spotters that selected the drop sites--egged them on while Chuck and Lochlan--the secondary and third communication officers on the team--told the other two to stop pitting the two knuckleheads against each other. Though it had never gotten rough, Kat and Ellis harbored a friendly rivalry between them since she was from Charlotte, North Carolina and he was from Charleston, South Carolina. They would just make snarky remarks about stereotypes that could be applied to either state and fight over who had the best food. However, heaven help anyone that said the two states were the same since they'd undoubtedly have both firefighters jumping down their throat; that being a lesson Michael would never forget since Marco didn't care to stop him from making the mistake.

Down the hall in the kitchen away from all the fun was Marshall McNeil, the pilot for the plane that carried the teams equipment and secondary medic. He was halfway through the dishes he had volunteered to clean because he had a small headache and didn't want to be anywhere near the ruckus Kat and Ellis were kicking up. Greeting Marco as he came by to grab a bottle of water from the fridge, he told him to rest up since his team was the first dropping tomorrow morning. Taking a swig from the bottle, the brunette refilled it at the water spigot coming out of the refrigerator door. Capping it, Marco patted Marshall's back wishing him a good night before leaving. After his conversation with Kenny that afternoon, he wasn't in the mood to hang out with the rest of the team. Then again, he usually kept to himself right before heading out for a job.

Hiking up the knobby pine stairs to the second floor where the resting quarters were, Marco opened the door to the room he shared with Kat and Bert; closing it after turning on the nightstand lamp. Tossing the bottle onto the pillow of his bed, he sat at the foot of the mattress with his shoulders hunched forward and head hung low while both hands raked through the shaggy undercut of his silken brown hair. He had come to base with a rough idea of what they'd be doing on the job as well as it's degree of difficulty and how long it should take them to put the blaze out with the assistance of the five other teams they would be working with. However, he wasn't prepared for the news he had gotten from Kenny.

Out of some freak turn of luck--a turn that wasn't in their favor--the North American monsoon season was pegged to start right in the middle of their second week in Yosemite. Any other time of the year the storm would be welcomed since California needed the rain. But all matter of vegetation was being burned which meant there'd be nothing left to keep the soil in place when the downpour hit. Heavy rains mixed with barren land on a steep incline and uneven terrain spelled danger for everyone out there fighting the fire because they were guaranteed to be met with heavy mudflows and mudslides, flooding, and debris flow. It wasn't even a question so much as it was a promise that the smokejumpers would come face to face with these aggressive forces of nature. And the cherry on top was that he'd be dropping in on the same zone Jean's father, Gabe made his last stand.

Collapsing back onto the bed, Marco sighed as his eyes closed. He couldn't help but feel the chill creeping up his spine as he placed himself in Gabe's position. What was going through the man's mind as he stared down that wall of fire with no way out? Did he panic? Did he take it all in stride and accept that that was his end of the road? Even worse was the haunting sensation as Marco imagined what it must have felt like to burn in his suit. The investigators reported that he didn't have the opportunity to deploy his pop-tent that could have given him an added nineteen minutes of life. That was probably because he knew that it wouldn't have made a difference since he was too far into the burn zone. Gasping as the visions flashing before his eyes grew too vivid, his lashes fluttered open as the air hitched in his throat.

He shouldn't be thinking about such things; shouldn't jinx the job before he even made the jump. Everyone knew it was bad luck to think about previous losses the night before they flew out. Yet he couldn't stop himself when everywhere Marco turned, Gabe's picture was somewhere on the wall. It didn't help that, not only was there a plaque dedicated to him on the wall by the front entrance, but there was also a group shot of him with the other R5 smokejumpers from way back in the day hanging over the mantle above the fireplace in the living room. The man was legend; a ghost that lingered among them as if he was still watching over them. Made into a hero--and rightfully so--it was only a matter of time before one of the senior members of the crew like Kenny or Roy brought him up in conversation.

That man, who so strongly resembled his son, haunted Marco. His powerful ice blue eyes and warm smile cut through him like the bitter wind in the dead of December. Almost always smiling in every photograph, Gabe must have been one of the most likable people on the team. A pilot, jumper, equipment specialist, and secondary medic, he had certainly been one of the most valuable people there. How in the hell he had gotten himself cornered on that bluff was beyond Marco. It was part of their training to always have a Plan B; to always have a way out. There was a high probability that he had weighed his options--had analysed his situation from every angle--and concluded that there wasn't any way out.

Pulling out his phone, Marco scrolled through the photo's in his library before landing on the one of his own father from his smokejumper years. It seemed like everyone was tied to Gabe Kirstein in some way but he didn't know the name of the man who had saved his father's life until he had signed up with the R5's. ' _Of course I'd be dating the son of the guy that saved my old man's ass_ ,' Marco thought listlessly. His only hope was that history wouldn't repeat itself with the shoe now being on the other foot. Marco had never really thought about the potential of him dying while out on a job. He knew it happened; heard the stories of other brave firefighters meeting their end every year. But he hadn't considered it ever happening to him. At least, not until now he hadn't.

Throat tightening when his phone began to vibrate, Marco could feel the nausea brewing in the pit of his stomach when Jean's call ID picture appeared followed by his ringtone; "I Could Die For You" by Red Hot Chili Peppers. Taking a deep steadying breath, he answered the phone while making sure that his voice didn't trembled on the pick up.

"Hey babe, what're you doing up this late?" Marco forced the smile into his tone and apparently it was too noticeable.

"You alright?" Jean asked on the end; his left brow undoubtedly arching in suspicion. "You don't sound okay baby. Is something wrong?"

"I just miss you is all." It was true, he did miss his partner. But that wasn't all that was going on.

"Don't lie to me Marco."

That was it. He'd been caught and there was no way of avoiding it. "Sorry, I'm just having a moment of weakness. Everywhere I turn I see a picture of your dad or his name on a plaque and it's just getting to me. I mean, it's not like it's making me angry or anything but it's just...I don't know, eerie, I guess."

Quiet for a long moment, the brunette could practically hear the gears turning in Jean's head as he digested the information. Had he said too much? Did he say something rude or say it in a confusing way? They never really talked about Gabe so Marco didn't know what was safe in conversation and what wasn't; what hit too deep and what was okay.

"You know I get the same feeling sometimes when I go back home," Jean said after what had only been a couple seconds but had felt like a century of waiting. "It's weird seeing him because I keep forgetting that he's gone. I guess the guys over there are having a hard time letting go too."

Hearing the soft defeated laugh on the other end, Marco felt his heart crack. "I'm sorry Jean, I shouldn't have said anything."

"It's alright Marco. He's gonna come up in conversation sometime."

Gnawing on his lip as he stared at the ceiling, the brunette swallowed back the hesitation that was telling him to keep the words sitting on the tip of his tongue private. "You know, the other day before I got my assignment, I was talking to my dad about his jumping years and the one time he almost didn't make it home." Licking his lips, Marco exhaled a trembling sigh. "He said a good friend on his team saved him at the last minute; even showed me a picture of his old crew on his phone and pointed the guy out. Guess I have a lot to thank your dad for since mine was one of the three guys he saved."

Sniffling on the other end, Jean cleared his throat. "So you found out."

"You knew?" Marco asked incredulously.

"Mhmm," the intern hummed as he wiped away his tears. "I didn't know you're dad was the same guy until I met him. I had only seen a picture and him called by his first name so when I saw him at the house for your birthday I was in a bit of shock. Well, later on once everything fell into place. But yeah, I knew."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I knew it'd make you feel weird."

Snorting a short laugh, Marco craned his head further back so he could see the moon through the window. "Yeah, guess that was a good move on your end. Hey babe, are you at my--our place?" he asked, quickly correcting himself on the last part.

"Yeah, why?"

"Go to the bedroom balcony and walk around to the part overlooking the front porch." Waiting as he heard Jean sigh, grunt as he got up, and slide open the glass door, the brunette's gentle smile grew when he heard the little gasp escape past the blonde's lips. "Do you see it?"

"Yeah," the intern said, his voice full of wonder and awe as he gazed up at the moon hanging large and high in the sky. The same moon that Marco was looking at right now. "It's so big. Is it a harvest moon?"

"Not just that. It's a supermoon too. That's why it's so bright."

"Amazing..."

"Yeah," Marco smiled as he looked up at the giant glittering orb floating above the trees, imaging what Jean must look like right now awash in its pale silver light. "I miss you Jean. I'm really anxious about this job. Hell, for the first time I'm scared to do a jump. But I promise to come home okay."

"I miss you too babe but it's okay," Jean said staring at the moon from his seat in the lounge chair he and Marco always snuggled up on after dinner. "I know you'll come back to me."

Voice hitching in his throat, Marco breathed, "I love you Jean."

Smiling, Jean brought a knee to his chest while biting his lip. "I love you Marco. I'm gonna let you go now so you can get some rest. Sleep tight baby and you'll be fine. Okay?"

"'Kay. Night love."

"Night hun. Remember, knees up and head in when you jump."

"Right," Marco chuckled before they said goodnight one more time before Jean hung up. Looking at the moon again, he sighed while reaching a hand up toward the sky. "See you in my dreams."


	13. No Sound But The Wind (Pt.I)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the Ghost Canyon Fire grows with the North American monsoon fast approaching, Marco's team fights to snuff it out. But an early crack in the weather changes everything...

It wasn't the sound of doctors being called over the intercom in the halls, the shuffling of smocked tennis shoes moving quickly over the tiled floor, or the insufferable buzzing of his pager on the nightstand next to his bunk that woke Jean from his afternoon nap--one that he had waited twenty hours for. Instead, what woke him was a sudden low rumbling followed by a loud clap of thunder in the near distance as the summer storm the meteorologist on the evening news said was on its way arrived with a bellowing roar. 

Bolting upright in a matter of seconds as the light flashed outside the on-call room's window, the intern heaved in as a gasp was smacked out of him by the accompanying sound. Hands gripping the sheets with sweat beading his forehead, Jean's eyes darted to the clear glass separating him from the elements. It was sunny that morning and the day before that which had led him to think that perhaps the weatherman had been wrong. But as the rain fell outside and lightning crackled throughout the thunderclouds--reaching down like tongues of fire--he felt like a fool for having doubted the seven day forecast.

"Fucking weird isn't it," Eren spoke from the door where he appeared without warning; hands shoved into the pockets of his crisp white surgeons lab coat. Emerald eyes trained on the thunderheads in the distance, the brunette's brow furrowed slightly. "And here I thought only Australia and parts of Asia had a monsoon season."

Jean didn't say anything for a long moment. His heart was still racing from being woken up so abruptly. Gazing out the window, he watched the rain come down, the people running for cover on the sidewalk down below, and the street lamps turn on block by block as the sun slowly set and the clouds eclipsed the remaining light. At any other time, he would have considered it a beautiful sight; the world cloaked in the gentle embrace of a rainstorm. He loved cold weather; used to visit the mountains frequently as a teenager and would play in the rain with Eren when they were kids. Had even gone as far as to complain to his mother nonstop about how dry and barren California was when he had moved there a year and a half ago. Yet now he didn't know what was worse, the dry arid landscape the valley seemed to be turning into or the lightning storms that could set fire to an entire mountainside of dry brush as if it were a match striking at kindling.

Pushing away from the door frame, Eren sat down next to Jean on the bed; not uttering a word. He could see the gears working overtime; could smell the proverbial smoke streaming from his ears. Like yesterday, Jean was being held ransom in the quiet confines of his mind. Out of the two of them, the blonde was far more cerebral than Eren was; was constantly thinking about something, getting stuck in his head for hours upon hours with no end in sight until someone shook him free. Usually the brunette could rescue his friend from the siren song playing throughout his head. Eren had always had a talent for changing the subject, brightening up a room, and making the guy laugh when he didn't think it possible. But slowly the dynamic had changed.

Overtime things had shifted between the two friends though it wasn't for the worse. Things were just different. They no longer relied solely on each other for stress relief. They no longer hounded one another at any given point in the day, asking what was wrong until the one being badgered snapped. They were no longer the single most important person in this little world that once consisted of only them. Eren had Levi now and Jean had Marco. But even so--despite the shift--their relationship was still indisputably strong which was why the brunette knew the best approach to the current situation was to sit and wait. Jean would talk once he was able to so Eren would remain quiet until it happened; until the blonde's thoughts released him.

"I know half of my shit is already packed up in boxes and that I've been staying at the place in La Canada but...I was thinking I'd stay the night at our place," Jean murmured. Turning to look at Eren, a small half smirk tugged at the left corner of his lips. "Is that alright?"

"Like it ever wouldn't," Eren smiled back softly. He could see the look of exhaustion and fatigue in Jean's eyes; could read it in the way his shoulders slumped and his jaw twitched when he went to crack his neck. "We could veg out on the couch watching Destination Truth while eating greasy pizza. How does that sound?"

"Like an epic night."

"Cool beans," the brunette smirked.

"Yeah," Jean breathed before closing his eyes and drifting until the side of his head made contact with the warm surface of Eren's chest. They remained that way for a long minute, silent and umoving while the sound of the rain grew louder. "I miss him," the blonde admitted quietly. "I'm scared he won't come home even though he said he would."

"I know," Eren murmured; hand rubbing smooth gentle circles into his friends' back. "I know you're scared and that you miss him. But Marco's got this. And with the rain, maybe he'll be home even sooner."

"Yeah," Jean trailed off as he breathed deep and low. "Maybe."

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Soggy leaves crunched and squished together under the weight of mud-slicked boots as the team of four firefighters trekked up the long winding path running parallel to a hillside all ablaze with fire some two yards away. Deer ran opposite of them as quickly as possible to escape the flames and birds flew south overhead heading toward the coast. Going against nature, the woman and three men kept moving. At the back of the pack was Addie Cohen, a medic jumper from the Missoula team that had been trained for swamping. In front of him was Michael with Region 5, the team cutter that had been paired with the Missoula swamper. Ahead of them was Kat who was the faller and Marco, the squad leader. 

Lifting a leg up, the brunette overstepped a smoldering tree branch that was close to four feet in diameter. As he did, Kat took her time searching for something in the distance to play I Spy with. They, as well as two hundred other firefighters, had been working on the Ghost Canyon fire for close to two weeks without swapping out with fresh recruits. Desensitized by the number of charred animal remains and the never ending cycle of going to sleep smelling smoke only to wake up the next morning with their resistant tents filled with the scent, it was the little things like an innocent game of I Spy that kept their spirits high.

"I spy with my lil eye somethin' blue," Kat breathed as she sank ankle deep into the sludge that had accumulated near the river banks.

Panting, Michael cocked a lopsided grin. "Well," he heaved, "it's not the sky. That's for damn sure."

"And it sure as fuck ain't the water," Addie added; his lips curving up into a cheeky grin.

Laughing they trudged through the forest; lit by the burning trees nearby. Eyes on the trail, Marco refrained from talking as much as he could. A couple of days ago, he had been nailed in the gut by charred branch that had come loose from its host and swung down to smack him square in the stomach. While there was no internal damage, his ribs still stung and his muscles ached. Chances were he had pulled something but it didn't hurt enough to stop him. Even if it were, he wouldn't be sent home. Rather, the chief for NorCal would stick him in the nearest hospital and wait until he had recovered before tossing him back into the frying pan.

So Marco kept his mouth shut, swallowed the pain, and grit his teeth as he hyper-extended his left arm to grab onto the flat side of a boulder to hoist himself up and over the obstacle with. Hissing as the sharp burn in his ribs spread through his torso, the brunette bit down on his lip with a stunted grunt. The additional hundred pounds of weight on his back packed piled on by the jumpers' gear was equivalent to carrying around a small person on his back twenty-four seven. 

Everything hurt from a dull throbbing in his shoulders to a cringe worthy stab in his sides and calves. Marco couldn't wait to go home. Couldn't wait to strip off his ash and mud covered turnout gear, sink into the hot water of his bath, and wash himself clean from the sweat and grim that had accumulated over the past week. In the last twelve days they had only met up with a wildlands team sleeper truck twice. It had been five days since he had last showered. Five days since he had eaten a meal that didn't come out of a ration packet, slept on a mattress rather the hard ground... Five long miserable days since he had last spoken to Jean. Marco hadn't mentioned he had been hurt while on the job nor had he told him that there had been a backfire near the head of the blaze which was what they were currently hiking toward. He hadn't said a word about the extension added onto the job and he damn well didn't say anything about the stormy weather that had just reached them a couple days ago.

Considering how hyper aware the young man was, Marco reckoned that Jean already knew about the storm and how it would impact his job; that it could both help and hinder his teams performance. The guy was the son of one of the most revered firefighters in recent history so it would only make sense that'd he'd know. So Marco kept it all to himself. He knew what that kind of information would do to his partner and hadn't the heart to tell him. Instead, he stayed on the line almost all night the last time they had spoken and spoke a lot about nothing; talking about anything that could buy them more time together on the phone. 

Even if they hadn't been facetiming, Marco would still be able to hear the gentle smile in Jean's voice. It was the same smile--the one that lit up the blonde's amber eyes--that he took with him into his dreams every night and woke up searching for in the morning. It was that laughter and soft whispering on the wind of the words "I love you" that pushed Marco up the steep terrain despite his protesting limbs. The brunette was determined to finish their assignment as quickly as possible while still staying safe so that he could go home and be reunited with his precious Jean.

Raising his closed gloved fist and holding it at eye level as a light rain began to fall, Marco stopped. "'Kay guys, we're setting up shop here. Tomorrow we'll hike the remaining two miles to the checkpoint and cut this thing through the neck. Addie, start setting up the tents behind the boulder outcropping over there," he said motioning to the cluster of large rocks that were toppled over one another. "Mike you can help him out after you you check the cutting gear to see if everything's working alright. Kat, survey the perimeter for smoldering ash and vegetation to make sure we're in the clear. I'll touch base Kenny to let him know we're stopping for the night and give him our coordinates."

Walking into the interior just a couple feet away, Marco blinked back at the rain that started coming down in heavier drops; sufficient enough in size that their impact on his gear could be heard. Removing his helmet, he closed his earthen brown eyes as his head fell back. Smile growing, he laughed while the rain washed the ash from his freckled cheeks and cleaned his wavy sweat soaked hair. He felt like a child standing there in the steady downpour wearing a goofy grin as if he were watching fireworks tear through the sky. But a part of the hope he had lost had been restored with the first drop on his shoulders. All the other storms that had passed through were small unloading only a half inch or so of rain. However, this one felt different. This storm cell had real power in it which, if it hit the entire canyon, could cut their remaining time there in half.

Opening his mouth, Marco laughed as drop upon drop landed on his tongue. Since the start of the second week, everything had started tasting like ash or dirt to him. But this left a cool refreshing sensation tickling the edges of his lips and the tip of his tongue. Smiling wider than he had in weeks, Marco shook out his now thoroughly soaked hair--a spray of droplets flying away from the chestnut strands as he whipped them back and forth. Finally, they were catching a break. Never did he think he'd be so grateful for a storm because if the rain kept up with the rate at which it was currently coming down--and stayed that way throughout the night--they could probably go home by Sunday. In four days, he could be home, in bed huddled up next to Jean who'd undoubtedly be rubbing the sore muscles in his back.

"Ackerman to Bott, do you read me?" Kenny hailed over the radio strapped to Marco's shoulder.

Grabbing the device, the brunette squeezed both sides then answered. "Bott to Ackerman, I read you loud and clear. This is some rain we've got going on Ken."

"Yeah, hopefully it'll be enough to snuff out this bastard so we can all go home."

"Maybe," Marco smirked but still knocked three times on the nearest tree trunk hoping they hadn't jinxed the one shred of luck they'd had all week. "We're setting up camp for the night a quarter mile west of the Mariposa Grove. We'll connect with your team tomorrow by Tunnel View by oh-eight-hundred hours. Sound good?"

"Sounds alright by me. Make sure ya'll keep your eyes peeled and ears open for landflows tonight. It's coming down pretty bad over here by Wawona."

"Will do."

After giving Kenny their coordinates in case of an emergency, Marco signed off for the night and headed back to their makeshift base. Hearing that Kenny's team had made it all the way down to Wawona was encouraging since three days ago they had reached a snag in the road around Chilnualna Falls. 'Guess their droppers came through after all,' the brunette thought to himself as he quietly back tracked along the path he had came down. Mingling with the scent of rain and moss covered woods was the potent but ever apparent smell of smoke coating his lungs and clinging to everything it touched. It stuck to his gear, skin, and hair like the rain that fell from the sky. Glancing up from the trail, he saw the trees still ablaze in the distance. It was strange that that separation gave him a sense of ease while for most others, it would send them into a panicked frenzy. But, feeling the shift in the wind combine with the downpour, the captain knew the fire wasn't going to be turning on them anytime soon. Like a caged animal it was stuck on the other side of the small river they were hiking along. It had nowhere to go and--hopefully--things would stay that way.

Coming up on the encampment, the brunette was pleased to see that everyone had busied themselves with their tasks. A couple years ago he had been shackled down with leading a team of rookies that would goof off and piss away the time he had designated for tasking. One guy had even fallen asleep when he was supposed to be checking the chainsaws to make sure they hadn't dulled the teeth during their last cut and swamp. Another had spent the thirty minute task period eating and checking for cell signal. Leading that band of children was probably one of the worst experiences of Marco's career. He much preferred his ragtag team of misfits that was now his permanent outfit whenever he was deployed with the smokejumpers.

"So how's everything on Ken's end of the canyon?" Michael asked as he finished pitching the second tent.

Ducking under the protective overhang of outstretched tarp, Marco bent over and patted the excess water out of his hair. "Things are going smoothly, surprisingly enough. They finally reached Wawona and will meet us at Tunnel View tomorrow morning at eight to help us put out the last couple acres on the east end of the burn."

"That's awesome!"

"Yeah, it's pretty good news."

"Shit, we could be home by Sunday if things keep going like this," Addie added off to the side from where he was scrubbing off his boots before ducking into the first tent to roll out the sleeping mats for him and Michael.

"Maybe. I'd rather not count my eggs before they hatch."

"Yeah 'cause ya' never know if there's a snake in the bunch that way," grumbled as she shook the rain from her shoulders and hair then swooped into the tent past Marco. "Fuck I'm tired. Who's on first watch tonight?"

"I could take the first round since I'm doing alright on sleep," Michael volunteered.

"Alright," Marco shrugged. Turning to the medic a couple of feet away, the brunette continued. "Addie, you take second watch. I'll take the third shift and Kat can have the fourth. Sound good?"

Nodding, Addie pushed his thin wire framed glasses up his nose. "Yeah, cool."

"Alright. Everyone take a quick break to grab a bit of rest and something to eat. Lights off in thirty, 'kay."

\----------------------------------------------------------------------

Jean's muscles tensed and relaxed as he walked down the hallway of the OR ward heading toward the nurses station. All the energy had been sapped from him; the obnoxious florescent lights not helping one bit as the sucked out his soul. He had nothing left in him to greet the night nurses passing by or the other doctors that were there checking the surgery board. He couldn't get this ringing out of his ears from the heart monitor flat-lining during his last procedure or the sound of Ymir's voice shouting "clear" as she took the pronged paddles of the D-Fib unit and shocked the patient back to life. Couldn't stop the shaking in his knees or the twitch in his fingers at the memory of having to reach inside the young woman's chest cavity to remove the blood clots while searching for the hole in her lungs.

Handing his patient files over to Michelle who was sitting next to Linda, another charge nurse, behind the desk, Jean slumped against the smooth surface of the divider between them; his cheek resting appreciatively on the cool desktop as a sigh escaped him. Both women looked at each other before turning back to him. Of all the interns, Jean was the brightest out; Eren playing a very close second only because he didn't dual specialize. A regular savant, the kid showed aptitude in both neurology and cardiology, was always on time to work, never forgot a patients name, and had over eighty surgeries under his belt because he was the most versatile intern the residents had had in years. But all of this was draining giving Jean little time to himself. 

It seemed like no mater what he did, he could never keep his head above water for long. He was either drowning in work or passed out in the on-call room. There was no in-between. At least there wasn't when Marco was away. The only time Jean took time off or had an extended leave was when Marco was around. It was sad in some ways because the two women knew that the kid was pushing himself so hard just to keep his mind off of what was happening in Yosemite. He'd been going like this since the storm hit and hadn't stopped once until that moment.

"Man, if only Marco was here," Michelle sighed nonchalantly to Linda as if Jean weren't standing right there. "He'd get Kirstein to take a break instead of letting him lay all over the nurses desk."

"You know I can hear you Michelle," Jean grumbled with his brow furrowed.

"That's why she said it Jeany-bear," Linda said, her stoic expression not betrayed by the pet name she used for the intern. Well him and Eren who was Ere-Bear. "You haven't gone home in two days hun. It's time to call it a day and sleep in your own bed. Even the attendings are wondering if you've set up camp in the on-call room."

"But I can't sleep at home."

"Too bad kid," Michelle said with a pinch to his ear. "If my boy was acting the way you are right now, I'd kick his ass into bed and tie him down by the ankles."

"That's a little terrifying Michelle, not gonna lie," Jean chuckled. Heaving a sigh as he pushed away from the counter, the intern relented. "Fine, I'll go home and stare at my ceiling all night. My shift is over anyway so I'll head out."

Smirking, the older nurse bobbed her head to the side with a hint of pride. "Good."

"Try some Advil PM or take two magnesium tablets," Linda offered. "That always helps me when I can't sleep."

Thanking them for their tough love, Jean headed to the doctor's lounge that linked up with the locker rooms. Stripping down to his black boxer briefs, the blonde tossed the dirty scrubs into the soiled laundry bin in the corner; letting the heavy metal lid slam down with a resounding twang. Looking at himself in the mirror of his open locker, he could see his stubble growing in. Jean had been so busy with everything else that he'd forgotten to shave. Making a mental note to do that when he got home, he pulled on his charcoal gray t-shirt, slim dark wash blue jeans, burgundy hoodie, and swapped his work shoes for a pair of navy Converse low-tops.

Slinging the strap of his battered and true leather messenger bag over his shoulder, he closed the locker, locked it, and left with his car keys in hand. On the way out he said bye to Sasha who was heading off to a assist in a litho case and Lenore who had just gotten out of a surgery over in urology. Everyone who had worked the last forty-eight hour shift like Jean had was either already gone or heading to the lounge to change out of their scrubs. Smiling as Tracy clapped a hand on his shoulder while passing, Jean told the intern he'd see him on Friday for the tumor debulking with Ymir. Pushing the glass door open with his back, Jean took a deep breath, his lungs filling immediately with the smell of rain soaked earth, damp leaves, and slick asphalt.

He hadn't been outside in two days except to eat lunch which changed when the second storm showed up. Standing under the steady stream of cool drops as they pelted his face, hair, and shoulders, Jean couldn't help the small smile tugging at the edges of his lips. He loved cold weather; missed it when he had moved to California even though it was nice being able to go hiking during the winter without freezing his ass off. Walking to the car, he could feel the strain from the daily grind hitting him hard. His eyes stung with exhaustion and his mind begged him to just climb into the back seat of his white Mercedes G-Class and sleep there. But the prospect of passing out in the master bed back at Marco's--and now his--place was strong enough to override his weary mind.

Climbing into the drivers side, Jean closed the door and started the engine. The weather wasn't too bad considering he had driven through snowstorms in near zero visibility. This small storm was nothing compared to those so he thought nothing of it when he peeled out of the parking lot and started heading toward La Canada Flintridge. Turning up the heater as he rolled up to a stop light, Jean was busy picking a song to listen to when the colors changed from red to green. Settling on "Ghosts of Beverly Drive" by Death Cab For Cutie, he shifted into gear and started making his turn when another car skidded through the stop light and slammed into the drivers side.

The world spiraled out of control as the car spun in circles--first hitting another car before bouncing off it and slamming into a fire hydrant. Head hitting the side airbag with arms holding the wheel tight to stop it from hydroplaning anymore than it already was, Jean gritted his teeth as glass flew through the air; nicking his cheeks and cutting his lip. Whipping to the left as his car slammed into the third vehicle then to the right as it pushed away, the intern gave a short cry as the passenger side hit the hydrant which caused the airbag in the steering wheel to deploy right as his face came within inches of hitting the console. As the powerful cushion erupted from the wheel, his seatbelt tightened, yanking Jean back so that he was pinned between the airbag at the drivers seat. 

The only thing he could see was spots as the world faded in-between black and vibrant red, muddled yellows, and buzzing white. He could hear people screaming and others shouting to call an ambulance. 'Someone's hurt,' his mind alerted him; the thought spurring him into action even though his body ached with protest. Fingers twitching from their place at his side, he shifted as much as was allowed by the airbag so that he could reach into his pant pocket. Removing the set of house keys, he flicked open the Swiss Army knife he had had since he was twelve and punctured the airbag; heaving in air as it released its oppressive hold on his chest. Cutting through his seatbelt which had been pulled taut by the safety lock, he examined his arms for a moment then touched over his ribs to make sure nothing had been injured by the airbag's explosion.

Slicing through the second airbag that hung over the driver's side window, Jean pulled himself up and out of his car which looked like it was halfway through a trash compactor. Thinking nothing of it, he turned around to see that the smaller third car had rolled over and the first one that had hit him was crumpled up against a light post. With the speed they were going, the blonde was surprised that there hadn't been more drivers involved. 'Lucky break I guess,' he mused. Eyes darting to where the frantic voices were hailing from, he ignored the three strangers asking him if he was alright and the women claiming to be a nurse as she urged him to sit down. 

Senses heightening as he heard the pained cries, Jean broke into a short sprint; closing the distance between him and the overturned car. The man who had been driving the first car was fine for the most part and was sitting on the sidewalk in the rain trying to calm his erratic breathing. But the third person didn't sound like they were doing too hot. He knew that guttural sound lacing in with their sobs. Could hear the bubbling in their throat as the coughed between speaking and whimpering. 

Coming to a skidding halt, Jean cleared a path for himself telling everyone in the way to move. When he crouched down at the drivers side, his gaze was met by frightened blue as a woman no older than twenty-three asked him what had happened and if her friend was okay. Glancing to the blonde woman in the passenger seat next to her--her body hanging there like a doll suspended upside down--Jean told the brunette that he was a doctor and that she needed to calm down or her injuries could get worse. Listening to his advice, she worked on slowing her breathing as he pressed two fingers to the pulse point on her neck. As he counted the beats per second under his breath, his stoic eyes watched the seconds hand on his watch tick; lifting only when it had been fifteen seconds.

"Your heart is beating too quickly. You need to relax a bit otherwise you'll risk going into arrest," Jean said calmly was he cupped her heart-shaped face in both hands. "Just take a few deep breaths for me. That's it. In..." he smiled gently as he mimicked her, taking a deep breath in, "and out. Perfect. You're doing great."

"W-What about Savannah?" the young woman asked. "S-She hasn't said anything. Is she...is she d-dead?"

Stopping her before she could start hyperventilating again, Jean turned her gaze back onto him. "I'll check on her in a moment but not until you're okay. You can't freak out, okay?"

Nodding, she smiled sadly. "You're a weird guy," she laughed lightly despite the pain it caused her.

"Yeah, I get that a lot," Jean smirked. "What's you're name?"

"Georgia."

"Really?" he asked with an amused laugh. 'Savannah and Georgia? Really/'

"Yeah. Our moms were best friends and got pregnant at the same time. When they found out they were both having girls they named us after their hometown and state."

"That's pretty cool," he admitted. Checking her pulse once more, Jean sighed in relief. "'Kay Georgia, your pulse is calm so I'm going to go check on your friend. Try not to move while I'm away. You don't have any severe injuries but we don't want to risk anything. Alright?"

When she nodded, Jean walked around to the other end of the capsized vehicle. He could hear the sirens closing in on their location; could see the red and blue of the police cars whizzing through stopped traffic. But this couldn't wait and Jean knew what he was doing. After handling plenty of emergency cases and accompanying Ymir for the triage, he had learned what to do and what not to do when there was an at-risk patient stuck in a wreck. Stooping down, Jean winced as the shards of broken glass crunched under his weight while he wiggled his way into the cabin of the busted red sedan. On his back, he gently moved the young woman's arms and long blonde hair that dangled in front of him so that she could see what he was doing. When he finally saw Savannah's face through the mess of feather light blonde curls, Jean's heart plummeted.

The young woman was abnormally pale despite all the blood that should be rushing to her head since they were upside down. Reaching up anyways, he placed two fingers to the column of her cool fair neck while praying for a pulse. However, the longer he waited the clearer it became that Savannah was no longer with them. The whiplash from the initial impact must have been powerful enough to dislocate her neck. The upside was that she had died quickly; the downside was everything else. Stomach knotting as he gazed up at the young woman's pale lifeless face, Jean wished he could bring her back; that they were in surgery and he could somehow wrestle her soul away from the hands of death. But it was too late now.

Carefully sliding out from under the car, Jean watched as three ambulances and a fire truck arrived followed closely by four squad cars. As the police cleared the area around the wrecks and set off flares to mark the perimeter, the EMT's and medics hopped into action. When the firefighters nearest to the red sedan saw that it had been overturned, they called for their teammates to break out the "Jaws of Life." Backing up as a female fireman knelt down next to Georgia's window and talked her through what was going to happen a medic urged Jean to take a seat on the stretcher so that they could assess his injuries. 

But Jean couldn't hear them when the young woman let out a bone-chilling scream of agony when she overheard two EMT's muttering that the blonde girl didn't make it. He couldn't hear the man asking him what his name was or if he was experiencing any pain in his sides and ribs. Nothing, Jean heard nothing except for the sound of the rain and the wind as it blew through. After that the world went black.


	14. No Sound But The Wind (Pt.II)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Like flames lives become fragile fleeting things in the midst of a summer storm...(continuation of No Sound But The Wind Pt.I)
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> ALERT!: Warning, character peril and minor character death ahead. Read with caution!!

The temperature had dropped and the air was frigid as Marco reached the halfway marker of his shift. Sitting just outside the tent entrance with eyes surveying the landscape--every once in a while flicking over to the dwindling fire on the adjacent hillside--he lingered in total silence listening for anything that was out of the ordinary. In jobs before during which there came a sudden rainstorm, he had been faced with mudslides, mudflows which were the faster and more frightening cousins of slides, and flooding. Three years ago while on loan to the Alberta fire service in Canada with his Region 5 team, he and Kat had nearly been mowed over by a massive mudflow that had snuck up on them in the dead of the night. Luckily no one had been injured because she hopped into action faster than a dog jumping the mailman.

Yet tonight was quiet; eerily so. Nothing was out of the ordinary with the fire dying on the hillside across the river from them filling the space between them with faint crackling and sporadic pops from falling branches. Wolves howled in the far off valley, their cries crying on the wind that sifted between the trees to reach the captain with its bone-chilling fingers. Crickets chirped and leaves rustled and owls sat aloft on their perches waiting for the opportune moment to swoop down to ensnare their unsuspecting prey. Everything was as it should be. Nothing was wrong at face value yet Marco couldn't deny the disturbing chill that sluggishly rolled up his spine like a steam roller pressing down on his nerves, one by one.

A clap of thunder shook the entire canyon, echoing down all the way from pass up ahead. Lightning shattered the dark evening sky shedding light on a world that was best when cloaked in darkness. Marco was not liking how close the thunderheads were getting to their location. Didn't like how they seemed to grow like some horrible creature eating up everything else in the sky until it was a gargantuan monster looming over the entire valley. 'If we're getting pelted then Kenny's camp must be drenched right now,' he thought as his deep dark brown eyes scanned the treeline. 

As he tilted his head further up to see if there was a pocket of clear sky rolling their way a loud snap sounded to his immediate left. Instinctively reaching for his Swiss Army knife as he rose to his feet in a defensive stance, Marco's eyes were met by those of a male spotted deer followed by four others. Like statues carved from stone, they gazed back at him with silent indifference. As the brunette's lips parted to breath out a low muted "wow," all five deer turned their heads to look in the direction from which they had came. Bodies going rigid for a brief moment, they all whipped their heads back around and raced into the darkness of the forest before them. Soon after, a hundreds of birds flew overhead as if to avoid oncoming danger. While he was watching the spectacle, Marco became hyper aware of the sudden rumbling under his feet.

Pieces clicking into place, he ran into the tent behind him to wake Kat up. "Kat, wake up!" Marco urged. "There's a mudslide coming!"

Cutting through the haze of sleep almost immediately, she shot up. "Fuck! Okay, go wake the others. Hurry!"

Heeding her words as he grabbed his gear and slipped on his equipment pack, Marco exited the tent; barely dodging another deer as it shot through their camp. All manner of wild life that had remained in that area was now fleeing as quickly as possible as the sound of the approaching mudslide grew louder and louder. Opening the curtain to the other small tent, the squad captain alerted Addie and Michael who reacted just as swiftly as Kat had. Grabbing their equipment while abandoning the tent, the four teammates met in the center of their camp.

Bears groaned as they ran as fast as their heavy limbs would carry them while rabbits, foxes, and badgers raced ahead in fear. Birds darted through the trees as the first sign of the incoming catastrophe came. Reaching their ankles in an instant, a flow of water full of ash, charcoal, and debris filled the surrounding area. 'Not good, not good, not fucking good!' Marco thought as he struggled to keep a lid on the panic rising within him. Usually, with the warning they had, they should have had ten minutes to find higher ground. But when the captain turned around, he could already see the main slide closing in on them like an avalanche destroying everything in its path.

"We can't out run that," Addie said matter-of-factly as dread fell over him. All eyes turned to Marco. "What do we do?"

Choking on his words for moment, time slowed as he glanced between his teammates and the mudslide. Breaths coming in ragged pants, his heart slammed against his ribs and the electricity that had been humming inside him broke out across his skin like a wildfire running rampant in a field of dry brush. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. They were out in the open on a downhill slope with nothing to stop the slide from reaching them. They were cornered. For a brief second, a vision of Gabe flashed before Marco's eyes. He could see the look of horror on the man's face as he stood on the edge of the bluff he had been backed onto by the fire. He could hear the his shuddering breaths as he stared down the raging blaze behind him. Both he and Marco were trapped but, unlike Gabe, he did have an out.

"We start climbing," he commanded as he grabbed the grappling hook attached to his pack. "Find a low enough hanging branch and latch onto it. We just need to be twelve feet off the ground to ride this out. Come on, move!"

Following his lead, they each quickly spotted a branch sufficient enough to support their weight while being high enough up that it would protect them from the flow. One by one, the firefighters tossed their hooks knowing that they only had this one shoot to land a decent hold. First up was Kat who had landed her grapple into a sturdy branch jutting off of a grand pine. Scaling it, she was followed by Addie who landed his in a sequoia ten feet behind her. As he ascended the tree Michael and Marco threw their shots while the mudslide closed in on them. Gritting his teeth as his ribs and aching shoulders screamed in protest, he climbed up the rope; his boots barely clearing a massive boulder that rolled through the forest like it were a tumbleweed.

Watching as their camp was carried away before being swallowed by the mudslide, Marco swallowed hard then looked up to get a head count on where everyone was. Spotting Kat sitting atop the branch she had hooked on to, he gave her a brief smile before turning away. Addie was hanging onto his perch looking too winded to keep going and Michael was still climbing his rope trying to get higher. But the moment of relief was short lived as the ground below them shook and rattled as if the earth itself was coming alive; like a colossal being rising from the ground and shaking everything it touched. 

Boulders the size of buses and downed tree trunks slammed into the bodies of the surrounding woods while the liquefied mud climbed higher and higher. Noticing the danger in an instant, Kat scrambled up to the next branch, her arms pulled and wrestling against the dragging weight of her pack as she hauled herself up with a growl. Michael did the same but with less energy since he had just made it up to the first branch he thought would have provided adequate shelter. As Marco kept an eye on his teammate making his ascent, the captain missed Addie who was throwing his hook to latch onto the next branch. However, as the firefighter landed the shot, a large boulder slammed into the body of the tree he was in. Hitting it with enough force to dent the trunk, Addie lost his footing while a surprised yelp.

"Addie!" they all screamed in broken unison.

Reacting quicker than the bat of a lash, Marco gritted his teeth as he made a controlled drop; hand gripping the rope tight when the soles of his boots were no more than a mere foot above the fast moving flow. Reaching his arm out, the captain yelled to the medic who was struggling to keep his head above the liquid sludge of mud and ash. Eyes zeroed in on Addie, he timed the catch perfectly; grabbing hold of the man with their fingers tightening around the muscles of each others forearms enough to bruise the skin. Growl evolving into a pain scream as he pulled his teammate out of the flow, Marco could feel his shoulder buckling while his heart soared far above what was considered a normal pulse.

In the distance, Kat and Michael cheered as they beheld the legend-worthy sight. No one else could have pulled that off except for their captain. No one would have the heart or courage to do such a thing let alone have the physical endurance to pull two hundred pounds of dead weight out of a mudslide. But Marco could. He could because he was some absurd mixture of brain and brawn with a heart that bled for those around him. Like a human parachute, he kept them safe from harm by acting decisively and moving into action without second guessing himself.

Smiling up at his savior, Addie laughed with disbelief with his arms hooked around Marco's shoulders. But the moment didn't last. An abrupt jolt shocked them both as the hook began to lose hold on the branch. With only enough time to glance at one another, the men fell through the air as the grappling hook was shook loose. Working through the panic, Kat and Michael threw their shots at the flow hoping to snag a branch that they could grab hold of to ride the slide out but missed as the debris and the two men were swept past them.

"Marco!" Kat screamed at the top of her lungs.

But it was too late. There was nothing she could do except watch as they were carried away before being swallowed whole by the flow.

Watching the light of his headlamp blink out, Kat let out a blood curdling cry. "MARCO!"

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Breaking through the fog clouding Jean's mind was like trying to shatter a ten inch deep layer of ice with his bare fists. Every bones in him ached and whined as he shifted. His head throbbed and ribs burned as a violent shot of energy hit him in the sternum. He had never felt so miserable in his life. Had never been so physically weak and useless before and it was driving him crazy being confined to the inner workings of his mind. The blonde knew he was on the brink of waking from a deep sleep; could feel it in the way his eyes darted about beneath the weight of heavy lids. But there was something unnatural to this sleep; something...wrong.

Lashes parting as if his eyes had been glued shut, Jean stared at the ceiling lights a long moment as the world slowly came back into focus. The hum of the florescent lights, the smell of antibacterial cleaner with faint traces of bleach... The scratching of sanitized bed sheets and the sound of a heart monitor echoing close to his right. He could feel the IV anchor taped snugly to the top of his left hand and the respiration feed that looped around both ears--traversing his pale face as it pumped oxygen into his lungs.

Lungs heaving as he attempted to move, the intern buckled under the grip of pain that danced up his spine before settling in chest. The dull ache in his sternum erupted bringing indescribable agony to Jean as he tried to catch his breath after the sudden blow knocked the wind out of him. His arms trembled and his body objected to moving as a violent fit of coughs racked over him. Nothing was as he remembered. The Last Jean could recall, he was standing in the rain watching as a team of urban firefighters freed Georgia from her overturned car. What had happened between then and now that had landed him in the hospital with an IV drip and monitor leads sticking out from beneath his gown.

"Don't you dare fucking move," growled a low voice from across the sparsely lit room.

Gaze lifting from his bruised arms that were dotted with small cuts, Jean met Ymir's unforgiving stare. "Ymir? What ha--?"

Clearing the space between them with five long steps, she grit her teeth with tears threatening to fall. "I said shut the fuck up and lay down!" she bellowed as the first drops fell from her glittering hazel eyes. "You stupid son of a bitch--!"

"Ymir!" shouted Levi as he bolted into the room before she could hurt the intern. Positioning himself between them, the surgeon pressed his hands against her shoulders; gripping her tight as he struggled to keep control. "Ymir, no! Stop it, you'll hurt him."

"How dare you do that, you fucking bastard!" she cried while warring against her friend. "What were you thinking?! Were you trying to get yourself killed? Huh?! What the fuck would Marco do if you died you fucking--"

"YMIR!" Levi roared loud enough that it filled the room and spilled into the hall. "Do you think he was trying to get himself killed? He was just doing what we've trained him to do." Gritting his teeth as she fought back, he held on tighter. "Stop! I said that's enough! Stop Ymir! Just stop..." Gazing into her fiery eyes, Levi's inner calm spread to her. "It's okay. I know you're scared but he's fine." Holding her face in his hands while both thumbs brushed away the tears, he exhaled a shallow sigh. "Go. I've got it from here. The kid'll be fine. Just go home and get some rest okay. You've had enough for today."

Eyes flicking from Jean's confused gaze to Levi's serene expression, she relented. "Fine," Ymir rasped with a sniffle. "But I'll be back in the morning. If he tries anything that'll hurt him more I'll knock the bastard out myself."

"Okay. Now go."

Watching the woman as she left--and not without one final look over her shoulder--Jean couldn't have felt more confused than he was in that moment. Something horrible must have happened to have her that worked up because Ymir had never shown that level of emotion in public. She was always calm, collected, a little snarky but never angry or violent. The most snap she had was when she was barking orders in surgery or cracking the whip on her interns. But this...this was something else. This was fear manifested.

"What happened?" Jean croaked out the whispered syllables.

Turning to look into the young mans panicked eyes, Levi sighed. "To you or to her?"

"Both."

There was a spark of something dancing in the mercurial pools of his as the surgeon weighed his words carefully. "You were in a three-car accident on your way home from work. You didn't sustain any life threatening injuries but you busted a rib and you have a concussion along with several nasty cuts to your arms, neck and face. You were so exhausted from helping the young woman--Georgia, I think--that you collapsed from dehydration and fatigue."

Licking his chapped lips, Jean nodded; or at least tried. "And her? Why is she so upset over this? It's not just because I'm dating her brother."

There it was again, that same brief look of dread filling the depths behind his eyes. Jean knew that expression. Had seen it before on his mother's face when he found her sobbing herself into oblivion in the kitchen when the coroner called with the news about his father. It was the same look Keith had when he handed Jean the folded up American flag at Gabe's funeral before he broke down saying how sorry he was and how he should have been the one to die. Whatever was going on, part of the intern didn't want to know. His gut was telling him that it involved Marco in some way which was precisely why he both did and did not want to know the details of the situation. But the young mans fear was overridden by his concern. If something had happened to his partner, he wanted to know.

"Tell me Levi." When the man only bit his lip, Jean urged. "Please? I want to know."

Throat clenching and skin clammy, Levi struggled to keep his voice even and level. "Last night, a massive storm cell hit Yosemite. It helped to put out the blaze burning in Wawona and near Mariposa but..." he choked; lip quivering faintly under the harsh glare of the overhead lights. "But there wasn't enough vegetation to hold in the water and a massive landslide hit all of Wawona."

"Levi..."

"Marco's team was located just west of the campgrounds. Apparently they had set up camp in the middle of the area hit hardest by the slide. They found two of his teammates but...but they..." Looking up, Levi's heart cracked when he saw the silent tears falling down Jean's pale grief stricken face; his eyes red from the strain of it all. "I'm so sorry Jean. There's search teams looking for him but they haven't found anything. His emergency positioning device was knocked off his jacket during the event and--"

"It's fine," the blonde wheezed as his heart raced. "You don't need to say anymore. That's enough."

"Jean..."

"Please," Jean stopped Levi before he could say more. "Just go."

As the door closed behind Levi as he exited the room, silence fell over the intern while the reality of the words set in. Flashing before his eyes were blips of memories he had shared with the brunette. Their first kiss on the back patio of Casey's with both of them veiled in moonlight. That beautiful smile that beamed back at him as they laid in bed one early morning; his pillowy lips speaking words he couldn't hear but remembered being said. Those eyes that lit up as Marco laughed. 'I love you Jean,' whispered the figment in his mind as phantom arms wrapped around him. His beautiful, perfect, wonderful Marco, the only man in this entire world that the he loved more than life, was gone; his body lost somewhere in the cold compress of a mudslide in the middle of a forest. That sweet laughter, those dreamy brown eyes he could fall into, that smile the brought color to his world... All of it was gone.

With a whimper, the tears began to flow freely and the sobs choked out all air.

"Marco..."

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He couldn't move, not because he was incapacitated or injured--though he was sure he was, but because he was too tired to try. Everything ached with a pain Marco never thought possible but it had gotten to the point that his body had become numb to the excruciating agony it was in. But he had to get up. Had to wake up because it he didn't he'd die out there in the woods or wherever he'd been dragged to. Taking in a deep breath, he was grateful to find he had been deposited onto the surface of the flow even if half of him was buried in the mud.

Opening both eyes, Marco tried not to retch at the dead bear carcass no more that seven feet away. How he hadn't ended up the same way was beyond him. Freeing his left arm first, he growled through gritted teeth as he pushed against the sludge to pulled his other limbs free. From the pain shooting through his chest on the right side, he could tell he had likely broken his clavicle and possibly dislocated his shoulder. It was as he tried tugging his legs out that a searing ungodly burst of fire shot through him, migrating from his right thigh up to his stomach then settling deep in his gut near the base of his spine where it teased pain up and down his spine.

Wiping the mud from his face, he blinked past the matted hair that had fallen in front of his eyes while attempting to focus on what had pinned him. Digging into the muck and mud with calloused hands, he stopped when he spotted the inch thick branch that had skewered him through the thigh. It was a miracle it hadn't sliced through his femoral artery. Thankfully the damn thing had gone in at an angle and missed it by a matter of inches. 

Digging around his injured leg, he cleared enough space so that he could ease it out of the mud. Biting down on his lip, his cheeks huffed as he held back the screams of pain that came as he arduously slid his limb out of the hole that tried to pull him back in as he hand slipped on the slick ground which brought his torso slamming down against the mud. Unable to stop it, he cried out; hands clutching the leg that was finally free as he rolled onto his back heaving in ragged breaths. Once he had calmed down, Marco removed the equipment pack that was still strapped to his shoulders and back. Wheezing, he rummaged through the sack until he found the emergency first aid kit.

Unlike the one school nurses had at their office or mother's included in their child's backpack when they went off to school, this one included everything a firefighter would need in the event of a medical emergency. Carefully sawing off the ends of the branch with the collar of his jacket bit between his teeth to ease the pain, Marco tossed the shards off to the sides. First he cleaned the wound with a small bottle of drinking water; growling as he plucked pieces of debris out of the damaged tissue and exposed muscle. Then, biting down extra hard on the collar, he doused it in hydrogen peroxide. A silent scream raked through him as he opened his mouth to cry out. Nothing came for a long moment until his lungs finally heaved out a short pained "Ah!" There was no way he could put weight on that; not a shot in hell. Grabbing two nearby sticks that were straight enough, he lashed them to either side of his thigh as a makeshift splint. Everything else he could manage so long as the sticks didn't shift.

"Fuck!" Marco cried as he shifted to stand; grudgingly slinging his pack over his left arm which had been spared injury.

Looking up at the sky as the low hanging sun streaked the grey clouds overhead, he could know a day--maybe two--had to have passed. His wound didn't show any signs of healing which meant it was still fairly fresh so he couldn't have been out for more than forty-eight hours. Carefully shuffling down from the mound of mud, rocks, trees and random debris that had piled up, Marco glanced from side to side trying to get his bearings. He had no clue where he was and his radio and emergency position device had been knocked free from his gear when he fell into the mudslide.

Hobbling parallel to the flow that had finally stilled, he followed it back the way it came; wincing every so often as the pain shooting up from his leg hit him too hard. Marco's mind was a complete utter mess as he kept walking, refusing to take a break because the need to be found was stronger than his exhaustion. He couldn't stop thinking about Kat and Michael and if they had made it out alive. He could remember Kat screaming his name right as he was sucked under but couldn't recall much of what happened after. A sick swirling sensation blossomed in Marco's gut as he remembered why he had been carried away. 'Addie,' he froze. Looking around from one direction to another, he panicked. 'Where's Addie?!' They were holding onto each other when they had fallen in. Maybe he got away. Maybe he had grabbed hold of a tree or a rock formation and had...

His thoughts came to a grinding halt when he heard the familiar sound of gravelly static coming from a radio buzzing under the mud some several feet in front of him. There, sticking out of the mudflow, was a human hand; Addie's hand. He knew it was his because he could make out the chimp tattoo on his forearm the guy had gotten a few years ago after they had all gone out drinking to celebrate his birthday. Lip trembling and body quaking, Marco turned away while raking his hands through his muddy hair before looking back at the lifeless limb.

"No, no, no," he whined to himself in between breathes being heaved in. "What the fuck, you can't be fucking serious? Really?"

Unable to leave his friend and teammate behind, Marco dragged himself up the mound of mud; tears coming even harder when he saw the top of Addie's head sticking out of the muck. Clawing at the stiff earth that had encased the man, he gagged when he saw how bashed up he was. How did he survive and not his friend? They were both the same height and weighed about the same as well with similar musculature. How was it that he wasn't able to pull himself up out of the flow like Marco had? What happened that could have led to Addie being smacked around by the debris enough to disfigure his once handsome face? Nose broken in multiple places, left eyebrow shattered, and jaw bruised black and blue, he didn't look anything like the man Marco remembered.

Gingerly removing the medic from the mud, Marco held him close as he broke down. They had been friends for so long; teammates for the better half of a decade and now the guy was gone. Snuffed out as if it were nothing. Addie was one of the toughest men he knew; could handle anything while brushing it off. Yet here he laid, a pale broken husk of the person he once was; life stripped from him like leaves being torn from the branches by a violent winter wind. Whispering his apology a dozen times over as he rocked back and forth with Addie's head cradled against the hollow of his chest, Marco wished that the ground would open up and swallow them both. But his attention was torn away when a familiar voice called over the radio that had been giving off nothing but white noise until that moment.

"Addie, do you read me?" Nile, the leader of the Missoula smokejumpers crew, called from the other end. "Addie, come in. Can you hear me? Hello? Addie?"

Hesitating for only a moment, Marco grabbed the radio from off the mans shoulder. "Come in Nile, this is squad captain Marco Bott."

"Marco? Jesus Christ, you're alive?!"

"Yeah," the brunette cried pitifully. "I'm here."

"Oh thank God. We have three search parties scouring the area for you. Is Cohen with you?"

Looking down at Addie's misshapened face, Marco sniffled. "Yeah. Yeah, Addie's here. I'm sorry Nile. I couldn't get to him in time and he...he just...I couldn't save him. He didn't make it Nile. Addie's gone."

The pain in his voice was so obvious it could be heard over the radio. "You have his body?"

"Yeah. It's right here." 

"'Kay. I need you to turn on his positioning device if it isn't already on," Nile instructed. Waiting until the squad captain confirmed he had switched on the beacon, he then continued. "Right. We should be able to find you now. I'll stay on the radio with you until the search and rescue guys pick you up. It's time to bring you boys home. Just stay put 'kay?"

"Uh huh," Marco whimpered as he continued crying.

"It's alright kid. Stay with me. We're gonna get you both out of there. I promise, we aren't leaving either of you behind."

\----------------------------------------------------------------------

Nothing could reach him. Nothing could break past the walls he had made or the barrier of stony indifference he had assumed two days ago after receiving the horrible news. Jean felt nothing, wanted nothing, heard nothing. He just laid there in the bed he once shared with Marco listening to the rain fall onto the deck where they once sat together on their favorite chair. A gentle breeze blew in through the window ruffling the curtains as it rolled over his neck, shoulders, and back. But it couldn't reach him where he was. Deep in the darkness of his mind he wallowed hoping that he'd die that way since the only light in his life had been robbed from him.

'Marco wouldn't want this,' he thought to himself as the tears rolled down his cheeks onto the pillow. 'He wouldn't want you like this.'

The intern had had this conversation with himself multiple times within the past forty-eight hours but the darkness always won. It was too strong to deny when he was in this vulnerable state of mourning. He had remained hopeful for most of the first day and tried to remain that way into the second but doubt creeped in. Memories of his father promising to come home and never making good on his word haunted Jean like the plague. He wanted to believe that Marco would come home. That he'd close his eyes only to wake with the beautiful smile shining back at him from the other side of the pillow. He wanted so desperately to believe but found it near impossible to do when three other bodies--all firefighters--had been brought back from Yosemite; two burned and caught in the northern end of the mudslide that wrecked all of the Wawona campgrounds and the surrounding area.

Gaze drifting to his phone vibrating on the nightstand next to the framed picture of him and Marco at the top of Charity Falls, new tears bubbled up when he saw Ymir's name on the screen. This was it. This was the call he had been dreading. They must have found Marco's body and were now calling all his loved ones to break the news. Reaching out, he grabbed hold of the device; biting his lip as drops fell from his eyes onto the screen. He didn't want to hear it yet. Didn't want to know that he'd never have another chance to hold Marco, to kiss him, to say "I love you" and hear it spoken back to him in that smooth silken voice. Jean didn't want to let go yet because he loved that ghost too much to think of living without it. But he couldn't stop himself as he pressed the accept icon and held the phone up to his ear.

"Hello?" he rasped.

"They found him," Ymir said; her voice a mix of relief, joy, and exhaustion. "He's alive Jean, they found Marco. Hello," she asked when the blonde didn't answer. "Hey, can you hear me, I said they found Marco. He's going to be okay."

Heaving in a deep shuddering breath, Jean collapsed onto his side, his entire body shaking from the wash of emotions that was breaking over him. Marco was alive; not dead and lying on a cold slab in some coroners room. He was alive, breathing and heart beating. Laughing as he cried harder despite trying to wipe the hot salty drops from his face, the intern thanked every star in the heavens above, every god, and every man and woman that was out there looking for him.

"I know you probably feel like shit but I'll be at the house in ten."

"Why?" Jean asked, his voice a wretched gravelly tone in comparison to how he usually sounded.

"You want to see him right? He was airlifted to Cedars-Sinai since he was stable enough. They got him in surgery right now but he should be out by the time we get back."

Jean perked up at that; the light returning to his bloodshot eyes for the first time in weeks. "Really?"

"Yeah really. Hurry up and get dressed because I'm not waiting."

"Okay, I'll do that now. Thanks Ymir."

"Whatever. We'll call it even for me screaming at you and calling you a bastard."

"'Kay," the blonde chuckled. "I'll see you in ten."

\---------------------------------------------------------------

The drive to the hospital was a blur shifting between long periods of silence and Ymir apologizing to Jean every so often for how she had behaved a few days ago when he had been hospitalized by the accident. Glancing to her, the blonde knew that she had been falling apart in her own private hell too. Despite being separated by a few years, the Bott siblings were as close as twins; incomplete without each other because they had something the other lacked. Ymir was rational and blunt while Marco was all heart and capable of breaking down barriers with just a smile or a laugh. They were polar opposites yet so similar and so close that the idea of losing her brother was, as Ymir described it on the drive over, "worse than any death she could suffer." For all the self-esteem issues Marco seemed to have, he truly did fail to see how invaluable he was.

Pulling up to the employee parking lot at Cedars-Sinai, no one stopped the woman to ask to see her parking pass. Instead they lifted the mechanical arm at the toll booth and ushered her inside with a hurried motion of their hands. It seemed that everyone knew what was going on because as they jogged up to the front desk in the lobby, the woman working the phones already knew the question sitting on the tip of Jean and Ymir's tongues before it had even been spoken. Telling them to head to room 1078 in the ICU, she wished them luck and gave Ymir's hand a gentle squeeze. Turning down the hall, the surgeon pushed the button to hail the elevator but her impatience was breaking down her composure.

"Why do these fucking things always take an eternity to come," she growled under her breath; leg jiggling in place while she chewed on the nail of her thumb.

Jean had never seen his resident like this. Had never seen Ymir lose her cool and dissolve into an emotional tangle of frustrated, anxious, sad, and hopeful. She was desperate to get to the ICU. Couldn't close the distance between herself and Marco fast enough; even a the few short moments on the elevator was torture with her standing at the ready waiting for the doors to open like a caged animal ready to pounce. When the lift finally stopped on their floor, Ymir practically bolted out of the box dragging Jean along with her--only letting go of his wrist when he was up to pace with her.

Not even stopping at the nurses station to check to see if Marco was in his room yet, she jogged down the hall repeating his room number under her breath as they passed the others by. Turning down the hallway on the left hand side, they came to abrupt stop when she found 1078. Frozen at the door, Ymir was terrified at what may lie beyond the entrance. She hadn't been told how badly Marco had been injured or what his prospects were for survival after the surgery; just that he was alive, stable, and being transported to their trauma center. Behind her, Jean could see the apprehension and turmoil warring within her. Could see the tremble of her hand as it brushed the cool metal of the knob.

"It's okay Ymir," Jean said quietly with a reassuring hand pressed between her shoulders. "He'll be okay."

Taking a deep breath to control the tears wishing to break through her defenses, Ymir nodded. "Yeah," she rasped. "He'll be okay. He'll be okay..."

Hand still shaking, she opened the door and took a couple steps inside with the intern hot on her heels. When Ymir lifted her gaze, a gasp left her as all the air was knocked from her lungs as if a fist had smacked her square in the gut. Pale and bruised lying asleep in the bed at the other end of the private room was Marco; her better half, her best friend, injured and broken. Willing her legs to move, she approached him with trepidation; uncertain of if she could handle this. He had never been this badly injured on a job before. Had never risked his life in such a way. Her baby brother--the same kid she had taught how to ride a bike and would drive to school every morning when he was in high school, the kid that used to be afraid of the dark and would whimper a "please stay" when she came in to check on him--was unconscious with cuts all over his face and neck, a large bandage over his right brow, and a bruise the size of Texas staining the perfect skin of his jaw with his lips split and chapped from being dragged through the mudslide. 

Running out from his right set of ribs--directly under his arm--were two IV lines. One was an arterial catheter to access the bloodstream while the other was a central line to supply his body with intravenous painkillers and saline fluid. There were only a few reasons the doctors would have chosen to use that combination on Marco and both Jean and Ymir knew the veins in his arm were in good condition so it only left three options. However, considering he had been pulled out of a mudslide and was presenting multiple cuts all over his body, chances were he had been wounded somewhere and contracted septicemia. It would explain his low blood pressure and fever.

Taking a few measured steps forward as if she were waiting for him to disappear from the bed, Ymir stumbled quickly to his side; her hands taking his cold clammy one in his as she sobbed. She couldn't take it anymore; couldn't handle the pain, the pressure, the waiting to see him and those bright eyes. Her entire being shook as she wept. Jumbled words heaved between sobs tumbled from her lips while her hands clutched his desperately as if her were the only thing tying her to this world and--without him--she would vanish into oblivion. It was the most human Jean had ever seen her. All airs and barriers stripped leaving nothing but the person--the frightened sister--behind begging her brother to stay.

Closing the distance between the bed and himself, Jean was caught in his own state of disbelief. This wasn't the Marco he knew. This wasn't the man he had said goodbye to a few weeks ago. Built up in his mind as some invincible hero despite his knowing better than to do that, Jean had forgotten how vulnerable his partner was; that he was, in fact, mortal and could die. Seeing him broken and bruised was something of a epiphany for him. Marco wasn't a superhero. He didn't have super strength or some shield protecting him from harm. He was human, like the rest of them, and could die. Thankfully enough, his life had been spared. His partner had come home to him just like he had promised.

Standing at the foot of the bed, Jean reached out and tenderly wrapped his hands around Marco's feet; rubbing small circles into the soles as he watched his slumbering face. He listened to the feed on the heart monitor dip and peak while his long deep breaths came and went every few seconds. 'My precious beautiful Marco,' Jean thought to himself as he continued absentmindedly massaging the bottom of his feet. 'What hell did you go through to leave you like this?' The interns heart nearly broke at the thought so he pushed it to the wayside until he was strong enough to hear the full story. What mattered now was that Marco was safe; alive and in recovery.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hours passed as people came and went to check in on Marco. Anita and Horatio dropped by before leaving with Ymir, telling Jean that she needed rest since she'd been up like this for the past three days. Now alone with the brunette, he sat down in the chair to Marco's left and wove their hands together. It was scary how cold he was to the touch. Usually his partner always ran hot, often complaining when the weather hit over eighty because it was too stuffy and oppressive. But now his skin was cool like ice and lacked the same deep bronze it normally possessed; now replaced with a ghostly pallor that wrapped around him like a veil.

Craving to be closer, Jean lowered the safety rail around the left side of the bed so that he could lean forward and rest his head atop Marco's chest. Listening to the strong and steady heartbeat that stood in defiance to his illness, the intern closed his eyes while his lip quivered and tears streaked his face. He had missed him so much. Missed the simple touch of his body against his own; the shared heat and the smell of his skin that still clung to him regardless of being in a sterilized hospital gown. He missed Marco so deeply, it were as if Jean had been holding his breath waiting for him to return so that he could finally live again. 

Feeling his lungs draw in a deep breath--deeper than the rest--followed by a groan that bubbled within his chest, Jean's eyes fluttered open and he lifted his head to be met by the sight of beautiful haunting earthen brown gazing up at him. Those eyes he had been waiting so long to see, had feared would never look upon him again, were transfixed on him as if he were some being from on high. Marco's pale chapped lips parted to speak but his voice didn't come. It had caught somewhere in the back of his throat and was being held prisoner by the fear that this was all so beautiful dream that would vanish the moment he spoke. 

Sensing his apprehension with little effort, Jean leaned forward to bring their lips together. He wanted to cement them in reality; to let his fragile lover know that this was real, that he was real. Half starved for his touch, the blonde stayed that way, their mouths molding together as their lips parted and tongues mingled. Whereas Marco's skin was ice cold, the inside of his mouth was sweltering. Tasting the familiar sweetness while his hand cupped the side of the brunette face--thumb gently stroking his jawline--Jean could have fallen to pieces in the tender moment. He wanted to cry, to thank Marco for coming home, and shower him with a rain of kisses but had to hold back; couldn't release the floodgates until the man was better. So he kept it under control and kissed him slowly as if he were whispering a promise against his split lips.

When they parted, Jean held Marco's face in his hands and kissed his lips, nose, and forehead. "It's okay Marco," he said softly as the brunette began to cry. "You're safe. You're safe with me baby. I promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like most of my writings, these two chapters (this and the previous one) were inspired by music but driven by one song in particular which lent its name to these installments. Here, from me to you, is "No Sound But The Wind" by Editors.
> 
>  
> 
> *NO SOUND BUT THE WIND*  
> by Editors
> 
> We can never go home  
> We no longer have one  
> I'll help you carry the load  
> I'll carry you in my arms  
> The kiss of the snow  
> The crescent moon above us  
> Our blood is cold  
> And we're alone  
> But I'm alone with you
> 
> Help me to carry the fire  
> We will keep it alight together  
> Help me to carry the fire  
> It will light our way forever
> 
> If I say shut your eyes  
> If I say look away  
> Bury your face in my shoulder  
> Think of a birthday  
> The things you put in your head  
> They will stay here forever  
> Our blood is cold  
> And we're alone, love  
> But I'm alone with you
> 
> Help me to carry the fire  
> We will keep it alight together  
> Help me to carry the fire  
> It will light our way forever
> 
> Help me to carry the fire  
> We will keep it alight together  
> Now help me to carry the fire  
> It will light up our way forever
> 
> If I say shut your eyes  
> If I say shut your eyes  
> Bury me in suprise  
> Where I say shut your eyes
> 
> Help me to carry the fire  
> We will keep it alight together  
> Help me carry the fire  
> It will light our way forever


End file.
